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No. 58. 


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PHANTOM DAYS. 


A NOVEL. 


By GEORGE T. WELCH. 



New York Post-Office as second-class matter. Copyright, 1892, by J. S. Ogilvie. 

























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CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

The Old Colonial Mansion — Friends and 

Ogres 7 

CHAPTER II. 

Tom— Rondaine — The Deliverance ... 21 

CHAPTER III. 

The Stage-Coach — The Fisher’s Hut— Sea 
Shore and Forest — Spectral Wan- 
derings . - 29 

CHAPTER IY. 

The Conspirator— The Dreaming Girl — 

Tom’s Departure 38 

CHAPTER Y. 

The Banker Discourses of Poisons . . . 49 

CHAPTER YL 

Marie de Rouville 54 

CHAPTER VII. 

Longings and Reveries ... r .... 65 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Mysterious Bargain — Miss Jude Con- 
verses 73 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Actors Debate in the Green Room . . 82 

( 3 ) 


4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER X. 

The Tutor 89 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Famous Violin 100 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Ghost 109 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Midnight Music — The Pantomime .... 115 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Mesmerism 123 

CHAPTER XV. 

Treasure Troye— Evil Genii 130 

CHAPTER XVI. 

The Physician and His Patient . . ’ . . 135 

CHAPTER XVIT. 

The Curse of Marlowe 141 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Castles in Lorraine . - 148 

CHAPTER XIX. 

It Might Have Been 161 

CHAPTER XX. 

The Old Merchant’s Story 171 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The Tryst 184 

CHAPTER XXII. 

The Buried Treasure 192 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

Defeat in the Hour of Triumph . . . .210 


CONTENTS. 


5 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

M. de Rouville 216 

CHAPTER XXY. 

The Lovers . . . ' . . 225 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Conflict . . 237 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

As A Tale That is Told 250 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The Hunch-back Sailor — The Ruined Mer- 
chant 264 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

The Old Grave-yard 270 

CHAPTER XXX. 

The Will 282 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

Judge Brief Analyzes 288 

• CHAPTER XXXII. 

The Ghost -Which Haunted the PIouse . 304 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Garrulous Age 317 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

David Ruland Alarms the Miser .... 321 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

The Witnesses are Gathering 326 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

To Unimaginable Shores ....... 335 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Malacosteon 345 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

. The Assassination . . . . ' 354 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Death in Life 366 

CHAPTER XL. 

The Secret of the Grave 374 

CHAPTER XLI. 

Somnambulism 385 

CHAPTER XLII. 

The Apparition 393 

CHAPTER XLI II. 

The Suicide 398 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

Strange Liquors Which Open up Enchant- 
ments 402 

CHAPTER XLV. 

The Revelation ; . . . 406 


PHANTOM DAYS 


CHAPTER I. 

THE OLD COLONIAL MANSION— FRIENDS AND OGRES. 

Peering back into the past, the first thing I can re- 
member, was a pale, sad woman, my mother, who al- 
ways seemed to me like one who had caught the gates 
of Paradise ajar, and, looking in, had seen mysteries, 
and heard music that rapt her half away from earth, 
and she was no longer entirely mortal. She had a wist- 
ful look — she saw not the flower, but saw beyond it, 
and heard not the first blackbird in Spring, but a song 
that was farther and fainter. 

Into my little, infantile heart, from the great shad- 
ows that hem us about — shadows as of gods mov- 
ing in clouds, as bitterly uncertain as we — came creep- 
ing slowly the indefinable doubt, whether our lives 
blended in accord and sympathy, as I would fain have 
had them do. For she was sweet and gentle, and a 
tender thrill was in her tone, and her nature was still 
and deep like the stream blending with the sea. From 
thence it arose that my heart suffered from a sense of 
loneliness, even when her arms were about me, and I 
must have shown it often in my little face, for she 
would suddenly catch me to her breast, as if in self- 
reproach, and rain tears and kisses on me, but even then 
cooing softly and nestling in her embrace, I felt that 

( 7 ) 


8 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


through my lips another was being kissed, and above a 
distant sorrow these tears were falling. 

And what I missed in her 1 could not find in my 
father, for he was a little dapper man, who moved about 
in a quick, nervous make-believe important way, as if 
to impress my mother that he had all the world upon 
his hands, and was every moment settling the most im- 
portant affairs. But he was — (and I speak it not with 
disrespect,) he was like a fiddle bow, sawing at a med- 
ley, beginning and never ending twenty things a day. 
He finally attributed his failures to the want of a liberal 
education, though Hiram Chevelling and Job Creep, 
and a dozen more of his street acquaintances who had 
never “ fed on the dainties hid in a book,” went climb- 
ing up and up the ladder of life. 

Failure always has an excuse of some kind. Cheery 
old “ if ” always has a hand for the disappointed, and 
leads them away from their misfortunes, with a com- 
forting word in their ear — God bless him ! 

But strangely enough, from many of the woes and per- 
plexities of my childhood, and to the verge of my man- 
hood, I found compensation in the love and companion- 
ship of kindly, forlorn old Tom Crispin, the faded serving 
man, who always met me with a simple tenderness beem- 
ing in his face, and who could never sufficiently prostrate 
himself to my service and amusement. He would take 
me in his arms and croon strange ballads, and relate to 
me wild and wonderful stories, jumbled mosaics of ro- 
mance that dazzled and distracted me, while over me 
bent his face with eyes so great and eager they seemed 
to eat right through the words, and come upon me with 
a meaning that set my heart beating tumultuously, and 
fascinated me beyond control. What it was, or why it 
was, I could not tell, but I became more and more 
drawn to Tom, languishing in his absence, for he would 


THE OLD COLONIAL MANSION. 


9 


sometimes leave me for a day, or many days, and rarely 
for weeks, leaving the house altogether, and no one 
knowing where he was gone. Suddenly he would re- 
appear, usually at night, and meet us in the morning 
without a word of explanation, and none, I found, was 
ever asked; and so would he leave, usually at night, 
coming and going without question, but never without 
leaving me sorrow, or bringing me gladness. 

I learned to know, as I grew older, when he was go- 
ing to leave us. He would fall into long abstractions, 
would gaze with a clouded look into vacancy, some- 
times muttering in strange tongues, or making little, 
inarticulate cries, and show in his face that a struggle 
was going on within him. If I came to him, or uttered 
a beseeching word, he did not seem to hear me ; so 
much was he then within himself, that his very flesh 
became remote, and my touch could awaken no re- 
sponse, neither could heat or cold pierce through this 
ansesthesia of the soul. With grief I felt I must re- 
linquish him, and the next morning when I would 
awaken, I would find that he was gone. I would pine 
in secret until he returned, for I early learned to know 
that my mother was easier in his absence, while my 
father paid little attention to it one way or the other. 
Before any one^else of the household became aware of 
it, I knew that kind old Tom had returned. I would 
awaken confusedly out of sleep and find him with a 
lighted candle in his hand, bending over me, or feel in 
the darkness that well remembered* tofteh, lightly in- 
forming both him and me as it stole softly over my feat- 
ures, and while I sunk back into dreams, I carried his 
comforting sigh with me, and felt no surprise to find 
him moving gently about the room, or sitting silently 
waiting my waking in the early morning. 

“ Oh, Tom, Tom,” I would cry, passionately cling- 


10 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


ing and sobbing against his cheek, “how could you 
leave me ? Dear old fellow, where have you been ? ” 

Then that troubled look, whose pathos had so often 
touched liiy heart, would come into his eyes, and he 
would gaze at me as dubiously as a child that cannot 
understand. Sometimes he would say, “ I must have 
slept a long while — I have had such dreams.” 

But he could not be made to acknowledge that any 
great lapse of time had parted us, and so, at last, I for- 
bore to chide or question him ; but still I wondered, 
and attributed something dark and mournful to the 
affairs that could thus benumb his sense, and spirit 
him away in the hollow deep and soundless night. 
From what I could gather, the dreams he alluded to, 
were, always brilliant. He had wings and mounted 
high into the heavens, skimming above the tallest 
trees, and without effort, sweeping above the hills, 
while the populace of towns and country-sides gazed, 
marvelling, and became blurs and mists to his fast re- 
ceding eyes. He heard sensuous strains of music, saw 
beautiful women, had gold, fared sumptuously, was re- 
vered, honored, loved, be wept, travailed with pain and 
in darkness, and awoke in terror, till he remembered 
me, when he would hurry to my room. Sometimes the 
incidents of his dream would vary. He would be 
traveling, or sketching, or riding, but always attended 
by the same fair women, and excellent friends. 

He would be discoursing music, or deep in learned 
argument, or* reading in wise books, but always with 
the same fine and gallant people, and always leaving 
them in grief, and awaking sunk in utterable horror. 
Once I begged him to take me with him to his en- 
chanted land, wherever it was, for the world outside 
was barren, and romance began to lend me wings, and 
prompt me to fly to the far and far away. Tom’s 


THE OLD COLONIAL MANSION. 11 

chest heaved hard, he seized my willing hand, his eyes 
dilated and emitted hidden flames which died away, 
leaving him fixed with that lonesome stare I knew so 
well ; silence gathered about him like a livery, and 
slowly he turned, and cat-like walked away, I follow- 
ing, with a high and beating heart, fully expecting 
under the rainbow’s arch, that moment shining after a 
shower, to enter some magic twilight and emerge, as if 
I had walked through the sun’s eye, into a land of 
splendors and opulence untold. Right through the 
open window toward which we went, stepped in my 
mother, who regarded us with such a mournful wonder 
that my hand relaxed, and Tom, seeming to feel the 
charm was broken, hesitated, stopped, and began to 
glimmer back to his old habit, and then turned and 
shuffled away without me. 

Never, after that, could I persuade him, and his 
tongue became gradually reticent in regard to that 
other world in which he sometimes went. 

The house in which we lived in that quaint town of 
Worcester, by the sea, was of brick, built in ample, 
colonial style, but dark, and almost sombre. Ivy 
clambered up the gables, and large trees about it shed 
solemn shadows into the windows. The wind from the 
sea was always whispering in the massy limbs, and the 
monotonous sound of the waves came low upon the 
ears in every pause of the day and night. 

But the place and its surrounding took on some- 
thing of terror to me, when in winter great storms 
arose, blotting the day, and the house shook to the 
forceful shocks, and I saw the long carpets rising and 
falling in the halls, and heard the screams of the sea 
birds on the blast. By day, from the upper windows, I 
could see the tremendous burst of the breakers on the 
cliff, and could hear their loud bellowing, as of monsters 


12 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


in deadly throes, and at night I shuddered in my bed, 
hearing the hollow roaring of the wind, and feeling the 
tremor of the walls. At such a time old Tom would 
become strangely excited, and would walk the floors 
with slow, incessant strides, muttering to himself in a 
foreign tongue. Once, on such an occasion, I awoke 
long past midnight, and found him in my room, which 
was dimly lighted. He had thrown the curtains aside, 
and was looking out upon the moon, which was moving 
frightfully under the clouds, and the tempest was roar- 
ing up the sky. 

“ Blow, blow, thou devil ! ” he shouted, and shook 
his clenched fist, and hissed a malediction to the fiend. 

Oh, how long ago that was. And yet I well re- 
member it, as though it had occurred but last night. 
And all those early incidents come crowding back, a 
mournful throng. 

On the wall of our old house hung many paintings 
which appeared marvelous works of art to my young 
eyes, for I could not then understand how well they 
mirrored the ambitious failures of my father, who con- 
stantly aspired, and as constantly sunk back again. 
Like one outside the game, he saw many fortunate 
moves he might have made, had not fate played a wiser 
hand. He was confident he might have succeeded bet- 
ter than another man in any profession, and have shed 
more glory upon the age than any hero renowned in its 
annals had he received but the proper encouragement 
at the right juncture. In those early days, he was a 
talkative, assertive man, but as I grew older he became 
more and more reticent, until, at last, he was a silent, 
furtive, disappointed soul. His library was made up 
of forgotten authors, and these paintings on the walls 
were done by humble artists. He delighted to read the 
works of poets who had died young, and speculate upon 


THE OLD COLONIAL MANSION. 


13 


their exalted eminence if they had lived. But poets 
of pith and vigor, men of heroic size, who required an 
ample horizon, and whose philosophy dealt not with 
flowers, and fading images of hope and beauty, but 
who took the current with their powerful arms, and 
put to sea, and dared the infinite — with these he would 
have naught to do. He found in them an insolence of 
genius that fretted him like a personal reproach. And, 
as I have seen some men carefully avoid the living 
great, as if their attention or intercourse would be set 
down to servile homage, so I have seen my father as 
scrupulously avoid any stray volume of worth that had 
got into his library ; and with a feeling tainted with a 
criminal joy that he thus belittled and took the pride 
out of the author, a feeling that gave him a clandestine 
comfort, he would seize upon some manikin near at 
hand, and wade into his shallow sentiment, or smell 
his withered roses. He exulted that in no very long 
time the most honored names would fall into neglect, 
and even a page of Shakespeare would be looked upon 
as an antique rag of little worth. 

And in this he was encouraged by the sardonic 
tongue of my Uncle Jesse, who w^as more learned than 
my father, but whose bitter humor it was to find the 
bent of a man’s weakness, and then cajole him further 
and further that way, until he became helplessly snared 
in his own absurdities, and opposed to the ridicule of 
his tormentor. My uncle would, therefore, instance 
the names of Greek and Latin authors whose works 
have long since perished. He would scoff at fame, 
and would picture men as ants laboriously mining the 
earth to raise palaces of sand, which the breath of time 
sweeps away, or destiny treads under foot. And he 
would slyly muse upon the men and women who had 
touched hands with him, or revolved about him in this 


14 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


wild Dervish dance of life. In some he had seen the 
glow of purpose, over some he had seen the bow of 
promise — some were shadows, some automatons, all 
were whirled away ! 

I early caught the infectious esteem of another 
which the world holds, and which passes like a germ in 
the air, from one to another — no word being said, and 
knew my father was not thought to be the busy pro- 
gressive man he would seem, so that I even seriously 
doubted the validity of those . springs from which he 
drew the never failing resource of a speculative mind. 
Marshes, rather, they seemed to me,, from which arose 
vague, poisonous mists of fortune, and entrancing only, 
the glare of my uncle’s fiercer genius shone fitfully upon 
them. 

To my satisfaction I was always faultlessly dressed 
and frequently taken out to see the w r orld, though I 
dreaded the event when my father turned off the 
fashionable, glittering streets into a certain dingy one, 
where, in a vast, cheerless house, lived my Uncle 
Jesse and his wife — that sour and faded relative whose 
remembrance even now makes me draw nearer to the 
fire to rid me of the chill and depression that comes 
over me.' My Aunt Judith was so prim and proper 
during her life that, after she was buried, I am sure 
she was not satisfied unless they put a broom in the 
tomb with her, for she wore herself out on the walls and 
floors, and I fancied she dusted the coals before they 
were put in the stove. The carpets were stretched 
that tight that the floors wrinkled under them, and the 
window panes were worn so thin with scrubbing that 
they bent in and out with the wind. 

There was something both terrible and fascinating 
to me in the appointments of this dreary house. The 
owner, in early life, had been a sea-faring man, trading 


THE OLD COLONIAL MANSION. 15 

in his own ship in various parts of the earth, wher- 
ever cupidity could extract the largest returns from 
strange populations, and it was secretly told that, in 
times of commercial depression, he had kidnapped 
cargoes of negroes and sold them as slaves in the 
southern states and in Cuba. He was fond of mon- 
strosities, and hideous Chinese and Malay idols were 
scattered about his house, brought home by him from 
his long sea-voyages. And outre carvings in ivory of 
reptiles and devils, from Japan, held me in grisly 
thrall whenever my fluttering eyes turned repeatedly 
upon them. I fancied the old man gloated upon my 
fears and sucked at my wounded sensibilities like a 
vampire, feeding some hidden solitary passion. In- 
deed, I had the nervous apprehension that he was 
not altogether human, and when in my earliest read- 
ing I chanced upon one of those creeping legends of 
were-wolves, I ever afterwards associated him with these 
frightful beasts, and expected some time to see him es- 
cape ravening from his flesh and tearing his own child, 
should such there be. . 

In his conversation he boldly burst through the 
covet of forbidden themes, and discoursed upon poisons 
like a Borgia, and delighted to tell of those which alter 
the physical characteristics of man, bringing age before 
its time, and pain like a vulture with acrid beak to tear 
the poor soul that lies long upon the rack, while the 
limbs are distorted from their sockets. He would 
to see deformed men and animals, and was fond of 
studying the insane. Not that he everywhere or at all 
times unbosomed himself, for none knew so well as he 
proper, audience or occasion, and many there were 
wfro treated as apocryphal the derogatory stories 
which were current of this singular man. For with 
these, as even among his avowed enemies, the high re- 


16 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


spect in which his towering financial abilities were held, 
outweighed much that would have irreparably con- 
demned a man of lesser talent. And 1 doubt il my mother, 
much as she discountenanced him, could ever have 
dreamed of his full iniquity, or, so brave was she at 
times for all her gentleness, she would have forbidden 
him the house and prevented my father taking me to 
his own. Principally, she endured him, as it was, be- 
cause of his marriage to her husband’s sister. As to 
his wife, my aunt, I think she never did regard him as 
exceptional in any respect, but frigidly took it for 
granted that he was as all men are, and concerned her- 
self little about it. Nor did I come at his character 
but by degrees, and tediously mastered at last what 
was as ripe to be known twenty years before. 

As to his financial ability, that could not be ques- 
tioned. The most prodigious undertakings found their 
germ in his harsh mind, as from the seemingly arid 
rock springs the vigorous growth of forest that hangs 
aloft and becomes the- envy of the plains. So vast were 
his ventures and his gains that men begged him to be- 
come their banker, and, like a huge lottery, he ab- 
sorbed from far and near the revenue of little and 
great, doling back to some a pittance, and exceptionally 
to another a dazzling gift of fortune, which was a pro- 
vocative that emptied most of the pockets in the city 
into his own. But many a small estate took a down- 
ward plunge into this maelstrom and was seen no 
more. While, as to himself, as if in derision of men’s 
sumptuous dreamy, he went about the streets on foot, 
gaunt, uncouth, companionable to the vile, and with 
words of bitter flavor on his tongue. He was one of 
those economists who inveigh against generous living, 
and believe men come into being not as lords over the 
forces of nature, and to wield power and influence like 


THE OLD COLONIAL MANSION. 


IT 


■the demi-gods of old, but that rather they come like 
uninvited guests to a nobleman’s table, and should be 
content with the scraps and small beer, and modestly 
withdraw before the lavish dessert and wines should 
turn their brains, It was his study how to ex- 
tract blood from turnips. His economies begun with 
the infant in arms and regretfully stopped with the 
funeral expenses of the aged. And Once,, with satirical 
humor, as if recognizing his own weakness, and with 
an irresistible impulse to drive himself to the wall, 
upon a Sunday, after hearing of a sermon on the fiery 
pit, by the Rev. Scorchem, he entertained us with the 
statistics of that nether torment, calculating that if 
Satan used proper frugality, seeing that his brimstone 
must be procured in enormous installments, and if no 
flame was wasted, he could roast a sinner to white heat 
for as little as four cents a day, which being six cents 
cheaper than I had heard him say he could live well 
upon here, I wondered he did not go there. 

As my observation extended I noticed that a day of 
uneasy mental flights upon the part of my father, with 
consultations of maps and pamphlets of calculations, 
and unavailing efforts on his part to interest my 
mother in tallies of figures which with evasive eager- 
ness he attempted to read, was invariably followed upon 
the next by a visit to his brother-in-law. And thither 
I was unwillingly drawn, probably as a subterfuge, for 
under the thin disguise of taking me out for an airing, 
he would hasten away to the dingy street and the grim 
pile of building in which dwelt this ogre of an uncle. 

I have a fading remembrance of his feverish eager- 
ness, his fear lest the capitalist should be gone abroad, 
and of the chill irresolution that struck upon him as 
he turned the corner of the street^ arid saw the win- 
dows through the iron shutters- of the lower part of thg 
2 


18 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


house, peeping out suspiciously upon us. He would 
grasp the big iron knocker with a trembling hand and 
beat a faint tatoo, while I would pull at his skirts with 
nervous entreatjq whispering, “ Come away, father ! 
there is yet time— no one has heard you ! ” Sometimes 
the door would open suddenly and the gruff old man 
within, glistening in the dark hall in his greasy cloak, 
would cry out quite cheerily, “ Gad bless my soul, 
David ! 'You and the thin chap ! Why knock so sternly ? 
The house is yours: come into it unannounced at all 
times. ^Everybody is welcome to Jesse Schanck’s old 
barn — even death, should he come to invest his only 
personal estate — his bones. And how’s the sentimen- 
tal madam? raying out music on the harpsicord ? It’s 
better than thinking! Who would agonize over great 
problems, making a choppy sea of his brain, when he 
might feel his way to Heaven on a cat-gut ! Ha ! ha ! ” 

But at other times there would be a great press of ■ 
people on business, cooling their heels in the ante-room 
while some one more fortunate had Plutus’ ear in the 
barren parlor, which was used as the counting-room ; 
and at such times we had also to wait our turn. 
Whenever it came, however, the bass tones tuned them- 
selves down insinuatingly, big ledgers gaped to the 
exploring finger, and stupendous aggregates shook my 
father to his centre. He would flutter like the charmed 
bird under the basalisk’s eye, running from the ledger 
and the beguiling tongue of the banker to the window 
where he computed alone, and from the window to the 
ledger, and finally with chattering teeth he would beg 
to be admitted to a candidaey to fortune. 

Evidently he brought no great bribe, but whatever 
it was, it was finally accepted on the part of my uncle 
as an especial favpr ; and once accepted, my father fell 
into a grievous melancholy and could not be rallied, 


THE OLD COLONIAL MANSION. 19 

rolling his eyes downward like a guilty thing, and now 
in haste to be gone. 

These men could not have known how receptive is a 
child’s mind, for what I saw and heard, not then under- 
stood, remained with me as a seed and flourished into 
knowledge. And yet I was not always left in the 
counting-room, but was unceremoniously thrust forth 
by my uncle, and the door banged to behind me. When 
this was the case, I could not go into another part of 
the house to seek my aunt, but wandered aimlessly into 
the dim hall, or up the uncarpeted stairs, or with a 
beating heart turned discursive into some other vast 
and solitary apartment. Upon a day, making such an 
excursion and going further down the hall to a part 
where day scarce blinked before me, I felt a cool and 
faintly noisome breath rising thin but penetrating, as 
if from the open jaws of an unused cellar, and being em- 
boldened to further exploration by hearing the pleading 
tones of my father and the coarse crackle of my uncle’s 
laughter, I felt about the steps and began to descend 
beneath the house. I was startled by seeing the lurid 
ray of a lantern, and with many haltings, listening and 
peering. I came near enough, after what seemed an 
age, to discover a little furnace, with a still, retorts, and 
what not of a chemist’s trade. From thence my eyes 
wandered, as far as the uncertain beams of the lantern 
penetrated, to huge piles of what seemed to my eyes 
the pillage of a castle, and I was half emboldened to 
take the light and investigate further, for I could now 
hear the voices of the two men droning over my head, 
when, just as I was reaching forward to get it, the 
sharp squeak of some small animal made me start aside, 
and the most miserable face of a monkey was raised 
despairingly and fixed upon me by two thrilling eyes, 
like that of a soul looking out of torment. 


20 


PHANTOM HAYS. 


Almost at the same moment I heard the scuffle of 
feet, as of men rising in haste, and before I could find 
the steps and mount into the hall, the outer door was 
swung open and hastily flung to, and I knew that my 
father, preoccupied by some loss, had gone away with- 
out me. In my trepidation I dared not cry out for him, 
and scarcely knowing what I did, I flitted into the un- 
derground darkness, before the approaching feet of my 
uncle. He came down the steps with a grisly stride, 
and picking up a pair of bellows he poked the covering 
of ashes aside and blew the smouldering coals to a 
dancing violet flame. The retort gave forth a bubbling 
sound ; the monkey began to whine' and tug ineffectually 
at its slender chain. Its master gave a fiendish laugh, 
and bending downward like a scamp Jupiter, he shot 
the lightnings of his mockery upon the cowering man- 
ikin. Over its weasened face spread a greenish terror, 
and it shook audibly. Its tormentor reaching sideways, 
still keeping his eyes not twenty inches from those of 
his victim, seized upon a. slender vial which contained 
some deadly liquor, I verily believed. The monkey 
screamed and wavered from side to side, and brave in 
my own alarm I was about to cry out against this cruel 
practice, when Jesse Schanck gasped out as if fromlhe 
stifling luxury of his emotions: 

“It is time; little Jude! Yon sop detained me 
long ! ” Noiseless as the shadow of a deer, I fled in- 
continently, but even in fleeing knew some presenti- 
ment made him start and listen like a guilty thing. I 
passed my aunt in the hall, who had just begun to la- 
bor with her broom, and flitting, wraith-like, before her 
astonished eyes, through the door she had set half open, 
1 came into the glare of the street, where I met my 
father returning for me. 


THE DELI V ER AN CE. 


21 


CHAPTER TI. 

TOM — RONDAINE — THE DELIVERANCE. 

Whatever of darkness there was that had come into 
my life, and insensibly some had gathered there, had 
not been native to my soul but had come from without. 
Still, under its influence, my cheerfulness suffered an 
eclipse, and I frequently became a prey to morbid fan- 
cies. From these, when heart-sick, as I increased in 
knowledge, T turned into books as into open doors and 
made wonderful advances for one so young, outstrip- 
ping all my youthful competitors, and gaining on the 
track of older companions when I was suddenly sent 
away to a famous private academy in Rondaine. Thither 
I had not gone without some fears on the part of my 
mother and myself, but I wept ‘bitterly at the thought 
of parting from Tom. Kind, faithful creature ! — He 
was to me as is the early sun of spring, though clouded 
often, to the plant that peeping out of Winter, unfolds 
its frost-nipped buds and gathers warmth and heart to 
grow into the far off summer. 

The affection that existed between us, made me his 
very stout defender when any one dared to criticise the 
peculiarities of his physical traits, or the hebetude of 
his mind, for I loved him now for all these, as well as 
his goodness. 

I cherished whatever gave him individualism, and be- 
gan to realize that character consists not in the virtues 
which men hold in common, but in those qualities 
wherein they differ, and that wherever men’s views di- 
verge, themselves begin. 


22 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


The best clue to the inner genius of the soul lies not 
in the splendid action of the man — his adroitness in 
counsel, resource in peril, energy in defeat, restraint in 
victory, so much as in his eccentricities, his foibles, his 
extravagancies. Who studied Anthony in his cups, 
and lingering dalliance with fair Egypt knew him 
better than he who perused him in his wars. 

And, whoever looked at Tom to smile at him, if even 
in pity did not know him so well as I whojiad marked 
his horror of great storms, his aversion of my evil 
uncle ; who had heard his suppressed cries and groans, 
and knew of his short and painful slumbers, and his 
sudden leaves of absence and unaccountable returns. 
Once, when my father would have praised me for some 
material progress made in my studies, his tongue trip- 
ping from the proper phrase, old Tom broke forth: 

“It is nothing. It does not signify. He will put 
-such things under his feet. He will write, he will act, 
he will paint, he will command, he will make the occa- 
sion.” And as suddenly as he had spoken, his tongue 
gathered rime, his eyes covered their fires, his counte- 
nance grew grave and dull. My father looked at him 
askance, and my Uncle Jesse, who was present, swore a 
round oath that he was playing on us all. 

Whenever my Uncle Jesse came into our house, 
Tom, though evincing undisguised aversion, could not 
keep his eyes off him. He would follow him at a little 
distance, watch him with a thrilling stare, and discover 
a strange excitement for some time after my grim rela- 
tive had withdrawn. I sometimes detected him with 
rare imitative faculty, casting his features into the 
same harsh expression that betrayed the banker’s cor- 
roding temper, and, with unchanging attitude, sitting 
for an hour together, as if to capture the impressions 
that must come to him distorted under that cramped 


THE DELIVERANCE. 


28 


mask. Sometimes it would look as if he must be think- 
ing the same thoughts, and he would go through the 
pantomime of counting gold, hiding it away, starting, 
and shuddering, and rising as if in mortal fear. Once 
when my Uncle Jesse, knowing my dread of him, 
caught me by. the hand in our great lonesome hall, and 
I, believing myself abandoned to him, had nearly cried 
in terror, I felt my other hand suddenly grasped by ' 
some one else, and knew it was Tom concealed behind 
the long cloaks that hung there from a rack, and I was 
comforted. 

“Ha! You young scapegrace, you consumer of 
bounty ! ” hissed the beetle-browed old man, “ what 
would you say to another ducking in Salt Pond?” 

I did not know to what he referred, or if he referred 
to anything, but I felt the strangest sensations creep 
through me, until I almost swooned with horror. It 
seemed to me as though the atomy of this forbidding 
soul was being drawn through my veins into those of 
Tom. I felt him relinquish himself with pain. His 
hand grew hot and sweated against my palm. 

He shuddered, and his respiration grew short, his 
eyes turning inward as I have seen a dog’s do in his 
agony. At the same time there was something eager 
and insatiate in the grasp of Tom. It was as though 
he could not take his fill of any shallow draught, but 
must drain me like a chalice of this old man’s nature. 
I know not what inspired me, but I whispered thinly 
aloft, “ Did he die ? — the monkey you poisoned so long 
ago ? ” My uncle must have felt himself in deadly 
peril, for with a bitter groan, he struggled powerfully a 
moment, and wrenched his hand away. At the same 
instant, I sunk chill and vapid upon the floor, Tom 
having relaxed his hold. 


24 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


The eyes of the two men met, fascinated in turn. 
My uncle howled in his rage, “ In league, by Heaven ! ” 

Tom stooped and picked me up, and was walking 
away with me, when my uncle called out before my father 
and mother, who had come into the hall at his cry : 
“ He has stolen my cloak, the beggar ! Turn them both 
into the street ! ” And, indeed, Tom had on the long 
coarse cloak, the old man had worn to our house that 
wintry day. I felt he had put it on to help him in his 
mimicry, and as a further decoy to the knowledge he 
longed to obtain. For, once I had heard from the old 
housekeeper, he had received with avidity a pair of 
cast-off shoes my uncle had thrown him in derision, 
and seemed as if he could not sufficiently admire them, 
turning them on this side and that, noting the deep 
creases, the mould of the leather, and the manner of 
its wear, as if, like an antiquarian, he could rebuild the 
satyr whose hoof-mark he had found in the clay. For 
this he received the name of “ Tom Crispin ” from the 
giver, as if to say he must have been a cobbler in early 
life. The humiliating name stuck to the poor man and 
the origin was finally forgotten. 

I had known him to appear in these same shoes when 
my uncle was visiting our house, and had seen him 
drag himself along in them more than usually vacant 
to the world but present to some thought within. The 
sight of him thus 'accoutred was sure to react upon his 
patron in snarls and general expressions of bad temper. 

“ What is the fool at ?” he would exclaim, “Can he 
get into my envelope b}^ getting into my shoes ? ” 

At another time, when he had thrown his slippery, 
glistering, old cloth 'coat off, on a hot day, he was 
alarmed to see Tom take it, reflectively turning it 
about, and suddenly put it on, bending his back and 
drooping his shoulders to make the accustomed 


THE DELIVERANCE. 


26 


wrinkles return, while he mounted the miser’s napless 
beaver hat on his head, having on the cast-away shoes 
at the same time. And now his features gradually as- 
sumed the grim incivility^ of my uncle’s, and there he 
stood like a statue, straining every emotion through the 
critic’s sieve, till he should catch some leading clue to 
heaven knows wliati There was something so ludi- 
crous though wierd, in the whole transaction, that my 
father and- mother and myself all laughed aloud, albeit 
my father did so uneasily, but my uncle shook visibly 
and rushed at Tom with hoarse cries, striking his hat to 
the floor, and tearing frantically at his coat. 

From this hour he held himself upon his guard in 
the presence of Tom, and was suspicious and uneasy 
until he was gone. He tried even to pursade my par- 
ents to send the poor fellow adrift, and prophesied evil 
if he remained. But my mother, with gentje persist- 
ence, would not tolerate this interference with her 
family arrangements, and the subject was dropped. 
For a fortnight before I was to leave for the school in 
Rofidaine, Tom had disappeared. He had not been in- 
formed of my intended departure, and I was grieving 
for his presence, but at last I went away without see- 
ing him, though I left him many messages which I 
think were not delivered. 

Arrived at the academy, I found the professor was 
too much occupied in contemplating his own import- 
ance to take much notice of mine. Consequently, as 
I could read and write and knew the merest ele- 
ments of a few of the text books, which was considered 
an unusual thing for so slight a slip of youth as I 
was, it became his ambition to advance me far beyond 
my powers of comprehension, as a sort of advertise- 
ment of the superior qualities of the teacher., I was 
thrust forward into studies that I understood no more 


26 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


than you do the philosophy of the stars, but I strug- 
gled with all my little soul to meet each day’s re- 
quirements, reciting pages of matter that displaced 
pages of yesterday’s lesson, and in the end, left no 
impression on my mind, but rather wore it away like the 
river that pours to the main through a golden chan- 
nel. I could recite with facility, but could not digest, 
and so became duller and duller, losing the fine conceit 
of myself that once warmed my wits to a plajdul brill- 
iancy, and I grew humble and sad. All this the pro- 
fessor could not see, for like most men, he believed 
himself to have superior talents in some other direction 
than that in which he earned his bread, and as he felt 
his field to be statesmanship, he lorded it over his little 
senate like an autocrat,* and with tedious pomposity 
asked the weakest of us the frightfullest political ques- 
tions, at times. As, opce, he demanded of poor Chev- 
elling, timid opthalmic eight year old weakling that he 
was, what he would have said, had he risen in the 
House of Burgesses to speak against the stamp act in 
1765. Quivering down into himself with humility, he 
was forced to confess he did not know. 

a Bah ! ” thundered Professor Lofty, “'It was well 
for the nation that Patrick Henry was there to repre- 
sent it instead of you ! ” 

And at this slighting remark the dim Che veiling 
began to weep. 

As I grew duller and more listless, the professor 
praised me no more, but bestowed his attentions upon 
some one more fortunate, while the young tyrants of the 
school daily imposed upon me, and made life so miser- 
able that it seemed T could no longer endure it. 

In the twilight of one of my most despairing days, 
I sat alone in my room regarding the newly risen 
moon, which was shining over the chimneys of the city, 


THE DELIVERANCE. 


27 


and thinking with mournful intensity of home, which 
for all its sombre hues was a bright spot in my 
memory. But as I recalled the sullen thunder of the 
sea ; the high and solemn trees forever waving their 
darksome arms about the house; the shadows that 
gloomed in and out the windows ; the lonesome sounds, 
which lying awake I heard in the midnight halls, where 
the feeble faces of dead ancestors glimmered from the 
canvass: when I thought of my restless uneasy father, 
and my mournful mother, thinking, that very moment, 
perhaps, not too intensely of me — hiding some grief, or 
some forboding from my heart — a weariness of life came 
over me, a vacancy swallowed me up. I wept softly, 
not to be heard of my tormentors, but I wept with 
bitterness, and turned and hid ‘my face in my pillow to 
suppress the sound of my sobbing. “ Oh, Tom ! 
Tom ! ” I murmured, “ there is no one understands my 
heart but you. Oh, that you could take me into that 
fairy land of yours, and that I might be known of this 
dismal world no more ! ” 

Thus murmuring and sobbing I fell asleep. I had, 
later on, a confused sense of some one coming into my 
room and caressing me, with plaintive cries, and then I 
felt the cool, night air blowing on my face. I opened 
my drowsy eyes at intervals, catching confused glimpses 
of stars above, and black houses on either hand, but 
with the feeling that I was dreaming of being carried 
away in the night, in the strong arms of Tom. 

At last, fully awake, I found it was even so. We 
were standing in front of a big inn, and lights were 
flaring from the open windows, and from flambeaux 
held in the hands of the stable boys. Great, heavy 
horses were being put to the stage coach, passengers 
were getting in, a little crowd had collected, and was 
looking on at the driver of the coach, who was having 


28 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


some trouble in making change for the gold piece 
given him by one of the passengers. 

“ Dang it all ! ” says he, 44 where did you get such an 
outlandish old coin ; never saw one like it before save 
in the hands of old Jesse Schanck, and he must have 
got it out of the wreck of the French clipper. He 
could squeeze gold out of the slippery maw of the sea 
if any man could. Here, who knows what’s the value 
of this?” 

And so, with further good humored but hasty oaths, 
he slipped a quanity of silver change into Tom’s hands 
who took it mechanically and thrust it away in his 
coat. And now, because of Tom’s want of genteel 
clothing, we were ordered to mount on top of the coach, 
instead of getting within to occupy the seats we had 
paid for. To this the good fellow responded with 
a noble but indignant gesture and again picking me up 
in his arms he stepped into the coach. 

44 Dang it all ! ” muttered the driver, 44 1 don’t know 
but I’d as lief. You’d make me an uneasy fool, if you 
was sitting along side of me. I’d be afraid of the 
headstones in every church yard we passed. But, I say, 
you people inside ! You’d better keep a lookout on the 
old one, or he might jump through the window and fly 
away with the lad he’s stolen ! ” And with a laugh he 
shut the door, mounted to his perch, and blowing a 
lusty strain on the stage horn we rolled away. 


THE STAGE-COACH. 


29 


CHAPTER III. 

THE STAGE-COACH — THE FISHER’S HUT — SEA SHORE 
AND FOREST — SPECTRAL WANDERINGS. 

Like one numbed by a soporific, which has lain him 
open-eyed at the gates of slumber, where coiled at ease 
he counts the hours, and watches the yellow gilding of 
the lamp-light on the walls, and unconcernedly hears 
the whisperings of the Muses as they discuss his fate, 
so the excitement of lying in Tom’s faithful arms kept 
me awake, when he himself was long lost in his uneasy 
dreaming. I heard the various noises of our huge ve- 
hicle as it was drawn, resisting, by the strong elastic 
horses, over the road which led farther into the night. 
Two men began to talk in subdued tones, and I amused 
myself by picking out a phrase here and there from 
their alien tongue, for I had learned of Tom. Evi- 
dently there was some secret scheming which they 
waited upon events to develop. 

After a snatch of slumber, I heard the rasping of 
flint and steel, and presently the thick fumes of tobacco 
came down through crevices from the seats without. 
The smokers had evidently put themselves on good 
terms with the driver, who was drolly communicative 
whenever they chose to address him. 

I don’t know how long they may have been talking, 
but suddenly I knew they were examining by the 
stage-lantern the gold-piece which Tom had given for 
our fares. 

“ There can be no doubt about it,” asserted One of 
the men, as if continuing a previous remark, “ but how 


30 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


passing strange to find so precious a coin so lightly 
spent, in this remote corner of the world. Did you 
ever have hold of another like it ? ” 

The driver gave a reckless laugh. 44 X never con- 
cerned myself with money further than to bless the 
man who first thought to make it round. Now if it 
was square, or had hooks to it, I’m blest if it wouldn’t 
stick in a man’s pocket and he’d have hard work to 
tear it out for drinks, but being round ” 

44 What was it you said about the wreck of a French 
clipper ? ” broke in the other voice testily. 

44 And who is this man whom you said you had seen 
have similar pieces of gold in his hands ? ” asked the 
second. 

But here I lost myself and the pleasant droning of a 
long story lulled me quite asleep. There came a lurch 
of the coach, and clutching wildly as we descended into 
a deep slough I heard again : 

44 Then he must be the very one who has the docu- 
ments, if they cannot be found in the secret recesses of 
the mansion — but as he is rich and powerful, one must 
proceed cautiously — if you would only put your spir- 
itual powers to the test, here, - you might make us both 
millionaires ! ” 

44 To whom could the papers be so valuable ? ” and 
there being no answer, the speaker began to hum re- 
flectively. 

44 Will you not get down,” said the first, 44 and try if 
there is not a little sleep waiting us in the coach ? No? 
Then think of what I said, but do not let a thousand 
other projects come rioting in, and drive this out.” 

' The stage stopped, and he clambered down, and when 
he was well fixed on the seat opposite us, he uttered a 
sneer as his friend aloft began ,to play a wild, wierd 
strain upon a flute, which took the sleeping echoes. 


THE STAGE-COACH. 81 

“ If it wasn’t for that talent,” he muttered, “ I do 
believe that fortune might crystallize him into some- 
thing stern and great. But music dissolves a man ! ” 

Lirra, lirra, sang the flute, sounding so blithsome, 
sweet and magical, in the cool whispering arches of the 
night. And while it sweetened earth and heaven, I 
heard Tom murmur to himself in drowsy rapture, and 
feeling, I, too, had become part of its romance, I sunk 
quite away into a cavern of dreams and was lost till the 
morning. When I awoke in the early dawn, it was 
with infinite satisfaction I found myself in Tom’s faith- 
ful arms, and I threw my own around his neck and em- 
braced him fervently. At the same moment a smallish 
gentleman opposite, one with curling black mustaches, 
and piercing eyes, began to stare at us with a sort of 
amazed look, but it was yet too dark for him to distin- 
guish features, so he leaned back, and making two or 
three ineffectual efforts to keep awake, instead, began 
to slumber. Then Tom leaned forward and looked at 
the stranger, and as if in alarm, suddenly wrenched the 
coach door open and, the horses being in a walk, leaped 
out, with me still in his arms, and unperceived, strode 
heavily into the forest that bordered the highway. It 
was the springtime, and the ground was lush with grass 
and starred with blossoms ; even the woody giants that 
drowsed in the morning mists, had something infantile 
about them to my eyes, being enveloped in a tender 
tracery of leaves, like lace, which covered them as with 
a youngling’s garment. Birds had begun their matin 
songs. Here and there some startled wild creature 
slipped away in the bracken. Fresh smells were in the 
air and lulling sounds. I struggled gently from Tom’s 
arms, and holding by his hand, danced at his side, urg- 
ing him to penetrate further into the woods. The sun 
came up, announced by a great cawing of crows. We 


IntAKTOM DAYS. 


§2 

burst suddenly out upon a river, rolling wide and slow. 
How swarthy ran the waters ! until the sun, glancing 
over the tree tops, set a diamond on the crest of every 
little wavelet, and seemed to thrill them with the liveli- 
est motion, giving an impetus to the noble stream that, 
further off, just out of sight, I thought, must make it 
raise its dripping head like a gigantic dragon, which 
looking left and right upon the cultivated fields, glides 
down into its sea-cavern, and is seen no more. We 
walked along the river margin, hearing, not far away, 
the sound of crisp waves crumbling on the shingle, and 
knew that the sea was at hand. The night journey 
and the morning walk had given me a brisk appetite, 
and it was with no small pleasure I perceived the low 
hut of a fisherman, with the smoke rising from the 
chimney. Thither we bent our way, and after brief 
bargaining were soon seated at a small table, in a dingy 
little room, with a plume or two of smoke hanging 
about the rafters, and half a dozen frowsy children 
peering at us from every coigne of vantage. The frugal 
meal of fish, browned to a turn, served by the fishwife, 
who had bold, handsome eyes that never ceased to flash 
their wonder in our faces, was a greater delicacy to me 
than many a dinner of state that I have since endured. 

While I ate, my eyes roved about the strange inte- 
rior, which seemed as perfect as a painting, in the be- 
wildering squalor of its appointments, and the group- 
ing of the startled children about the comely mother 
before the open fire, which shot a red gold mist around 
them, and illuminated the odds and ends of the wreck- 
age on the grimy walls. Over the mantelpiece hung a 
mandolin, which, seeing I wondered at, the woman 
took down, and standing among her children, she shook 
the strings with a sudden passion, and played a plaint- 
ive, stirring air, with a most yearning look in her eyes. 


THE STAGE-COACU. 


It was done so naturally, and yet apparently with a 
meaning. Tom put down his knife and fork as though 
agitated, and suddenly I perceived the haggard face of 
a fisherman peering out of the garret as though in a 
cold frenzy of terror. 

When we were about to leave the hut, and after the 
woman had received another of those odd pieces of 
gold that so perplexed the stage-driver, she called me 
apart, and asked my name, and whether I went wil- 
lingly with that singular man, my companion. Hardly 
assured for all my protestations, she agreed to row us 
across the river, for Tom had so stipulated. Arrived 
upon the further bank, we sat down to watch the fisher- 
woman dipping with vigorous hands the oars that bore 
her from us. 

*‘Now tell me, Tom, good genius that you are, ” I 
began, as soon as we were well alone, “ why it was you 
came to me, and how it was you found me ? ” 

He smiled upon me with a richness that left no need 
for words, as he placed one hand upon his heart, and 
one on mine. 

After a minute he replied, “ You needed me. I felt 
it. It drew me to you.” 

“ Did not my mother send you ? ” 

His face took on a little gloom, and he shook his 
head abstractedly. 

“ Had they not told you where I was? ” 

Again he shook his head. I noticed how weary he 
looked. His cheek was pale, and dark rings of cloud 
were about his eyes. 

The thought that he, too, had suffered in my absence, 
was a poignard prick to my heart. To be with him 
now was the chief pleasure, and I did not think how 
strange it all was. 

3 


34 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


Seeing in my eyes what I would ask of his life in the 
interval, he muttered : 

“ Wandering — W andering — W andering — ” 

We got up by a sort of mutual consent, and went a 
little way into the forest, for by this was the river bor- 
dered on each side. We lay down in a little sunny 
glade, with our faces up to the sky ; very high up a 
single eagle was soaring into the zenith. Oh ! so high ! 
he drew my soul after him : he was going beyond the 
earth, and the winds in their downward plunge were 
whizzing coldly by him. Into what lonely splendors 
would he not penetrate ! Was he leaving aught behind 
him — what would he gain in the sublime morning of 
another world ! Thus feeling, not thinking, I felt 
Tom’s hand seeking mine and tenderly grasping me 
into his nature, that seemed to me as deep as the sky, 
and to have mornings far off that I too would pene- 
trate as that eagle, now become a speck, and anon 
melted into the heavens. 

Alas ! how seldom, if ever, w T e get into the hallowed, 
hidden, inner being of even those we love. Something 
jealous and not of us stands at the portal and bars the 
way. If we cannot be content with the ceremonies, 
we must be with the hints of an immortality that still 
is coy, though still yearning to meet with ours. Love, 
in whatever degree, and between whomsoever, is a mys- 
ticism. Thought cannot communicate it. The lam- 
bent lightning of the eye has signalled it, touch has 
told it, presence conveys it. It is the language that un- 
derlies all language, wit’s protoplasm, the eluding Ariel 
that comes and goes betwixt the spaces of fast falling 
speech, that tells it best. 

My father had ever seemed a little alien to me, my 
mother had never entirely satisfied the hunger of my 
heart, but Tom, I knew, had always loved me beyond 


THE STAGE-COACH. 


85 


measure. We heard a fox bark near us, and I sat up 
and looked. I perceived there were tears brimming in 
Tom’s eyes. “Ah, little Jude,” he said, “it is such 
joy to be with you once more ! ” 

Oh, what a golden day that was ! I the little child, 
and the strong man melted from his deep abstractions, 
back, to youth again, and fond companionship. He 
taught me bits of verse, gems that sparkle in the mind 
after the setting has worn away ; we played at hide 
and seek, made crowns of arbutus, mocked the whis- 
tling of the quails, gave chase to the squirrels, or came 
out on the beach and searched for shells. Charmed 
by the lullaby of low waves, my eyes began to drowse. 
The faithful Tom laid me on a bed of warm sea-drift, 
and covered me with his coat. He sat by me holding 
my hand and crooning a ballad. “ You will never 
leave me again, Tom ? ” I murmured, “ and I don’t 
want a better fairy land than this.” 

When I awoke he was bending over a fire he had 
made, and was roasting shell fish. How royally we 
dined on oysters and crabs, and drank from conch 
shells the cool water of a little stream that tinkled 
near us. Nowand then, far off a sail appeared, but we 
were centered in a charming solitude, neighbors of 
Nature ; who babbled to us with waves, the tiny silver 
tongue of the stream, voices of birds, soughing of the 
wind in the pines. 

When the long splendid day was done, and night 
drew on with a vast brilliance, I began to notice that 
shme agitation about Tom, that I have ere now described. 
He paced the sea shore with short, abrupt steps, 
stopped, gazed into some profound, with awe deepen- 
ing in his face ; he sighed deeply and made piteous 
little cries. Then he began to walk rapidly away. 
Shadows of terror flitted darkly through my mind. I 


36 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


was holding his hand and hurrying at his side. There 
was something appalling to me in the night that I had 
never felt before. The moon came up. A ghastly 
yellow light spread momently. I dared not look at 
Tom. We were threading the forest ways as easily as 
one walks in a dream. We came out into a road. I 
heard a wagoner urging his oxen, the wheels jolted in 
the heavy ruts over the roots, the yoke creaked. As 
we passed them with swift steps, over the noiseless 
needles of the pine, the lolling brutes started and gave 
a low of alarm. “ Great Heavens ! ” shrilled the driver, 
shrinking before us — so wild we must have seemed. I 
felt no desire to cry out. I was under necromancy. 
But my feet began to drag. The rapid pace was tell- 
ing on me, and I fell asleep as we walked, and yet I 
knew that Tom had taken me in his arms, and still was 
gliding onward. 

And somehow I remember that a change came over 
Tom, which was communicated to me in. my slumber. 
His feet began to stumble, his arms relaxed, I had fal- 
len on the ground. And then I heard a voice 
I had never heard before, “ My God, what is 
the meaning of this ? ” There was something of inex- 
pressible anguish in the tone. I opened my eyes. I 
was lying upon a broken tomb in an old grave yard. 
The moon was bending from the zenith, making a 
mimic day. Tom was gone, and in his place a man of 
noble .presence had come. But he was dressed like 
Tom, and seemed weary, and his face was full of pain 
and horror. He looked up at the moon, and then at 
the sandy plain, sentinelled by dwarfish trees. The 
night was full of cook airs, but silent. I longed for 
Tom, yet dreaded to see him come. I wondered if the 
graves were not open, and the ghosts wandering abroad. 
I wondered if I was alive, or had ever lived. If I was 


THE STAGE-COACH. 37 

not one of the phantoms that people dream, and was 
being the actor in someone's tranced vision. 

The stranger bowed his head above me, nodding it 
drearily to and fro, he smote his breast and cried aloud, 
“ Always of this ! Oh, ye inexorable fates ! Why was 
I not also whirled down the slippery abysses of the 
sea ? What fiend carries thus to and fro about the 
earth, haunting me everywhere in the solitary places 
with this child’s face, that grows slowly from infancy 
into youth, as my strong imaginings yearn in my soul ? 
Even now the fiend has but left me. I feel the horror 
of his touch, and his derision clothes me in these greasy 
tatters. I forget my high estate, and am cast down in 
the desert haunted as of old with this innocent unsub- 
stantial face of the child I shall see no more ! ” And 
the strong man reeled and groaned. As for me, I was 
like one burning and freezing in ague, sea-sounds swim- 
ming in my ears, a mist before my eyes, thought com- 
ing to no point, but blurred upon the table, of my 
brain. There was something sublime in the phrensied 
despair of the man. His nobility was unquestionable 
despite his beggar’s garb ; it shone through all impedi- 
ment, as the sun far off, at the days end, gleams ma- 
jestic through ominous clouds of winter. I closed my 
eyes and heard him moaning : I opened my eyes, and 
a leaning tower of despair he moaned above me. Far 
up, the wraith of the departed day, a dismal shape of 
cloud, poised on its sombre wings, came sailing between 
us and the moon. The man looked up beseeching, lift- 
ing his arms on high. A wind came rustling, full of 
forest sounds, making the shadows flicker, as the moon 
shone out. The man was gone — when ! how ! I could 
not tell. Even as I looked at him he dissolved and 
passed away. I lay paralyzed and numb to the mar- 
row of my being. Suddenly I heard the sound of a 


38 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


struggle, a suppressed scream that curled my young 
blood, and then a heavy fall. Afterward, I felt the si- 
lence as if I had been dropped a plummet over the 
edge of the earth. 

In no long time footsteps came from the same direc- 
tion, and a whimpering sound as of one in distress, 
that was so well known to me, and I knew that Tom was 
seeking me. Espying me, with a little cry of pleasure, 
he ran toward me. My eyes were wide open. The moon 
was round and full, and reflecting the passionate im- 
pulses of the day star, shadows being sharply defined. 
As Tom leaned over me to take me up, his eyes met 
mine. All the pleasure vanished out of his face ; and 
a sickening, sinking look went in. He dropped me out 
of his arms, and weeping, called me with all tender 
names, and chafed my cold hands and took me to his 
heart, where I hung heavy as lead. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE CONSPIRATOR — THE DREAMING GIRL — TOM’S DE- 
PARTURE. 

We were on the road again, wandering, wandering! 

The moon was yet high up in the heavens, burning 
with a cold splendor among the constellations, when I 
perceived we were skirting the borders of a little city. 
Winding in and out, breathing the odor of rime, Shear- 
ing far off though near, the sullen undertone of the sea, 
and the distant baying of watchdogs, but meeting no 
mortal, at last my guide halted as if painfully under- 
mined. We entered a large garden where a half-dozen 
marble statues among the leafing shrubs and the ever- 
greens, seemed to me not more strange, nor less of the 


THE CONSPIRATOR. 


89 


world than we. Lights were shining from the windows 
of the large house which we were slowly approaching. 
I was chill from the night air, and the fear of the super- 
natural that had gone icily through the fountains of 
my blood, and when Tom stooped from gazing at one 
of the upper windows, under which he had called softly 
in a foreign tongue, and had gestured mysteriously, 
and now began to caress me in a half eager, half sorrow- 
ful way, I could not return his caresses and~I felt no 
assurance. 

“I will not leave youdong, little one,” he murmured, 
“sit you here on this stone bench, and wrap my coat 
about you.” 

I sunk down wearily and he disappeared among the 
shrubbery. Mechanically I looked through the vines 
that interlaced the window against which I leaned, and 
saw a grave, handsome man slowly pacing, as he mused, 
before a bright little wood fire. The big, brass andirons 
gleamed, and a ruddy glow was on the walls. A num- 
ber of open cases full of books, were all about the 
room, with paintings here and there, and easy chairs, 
and rich rugs scattered about the floor. I remember 
that I wondered in a vague way, if what I saw was 
real, and my tired body contrasted my waiting in the 
cool night airs, with this ruddy warmth and comfort. 
As the gentleman turned in his course, the door opened 
cautiously at his back, and a crafty face looked in, and 
would have receded had not the former turned /about 
eagerly with an exclamation, and then stood transfixed. 
The crafty man then came into the room, bearing a 
lighted candle in his hand. He was consciously ill at 
ease, though looking bold and defiant. When he had 
come fully into the light, I recognized him at once, and 
the wind pausing in its monotonous whispering, I 
heard distinctly the voices within. 


40 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


“Upon my word,” exclaimed the first gentleman, 
coldly, “ is it long since you became a somnambulist ? 
I thought you had been asleep in your bed these two 
hours.” 

“ It is my zeal to attend upon his Grace, which keeps 
me awake ; ” was the reply. “ I thought I heard his 
step outside my door, and I came down to deliver my 
dispatches. But what wonder if I caught the prevail- 
ing disease of the house ? It would seem night is turned 
into day here, and I easily conform to custom. Like 
Diogenes, I carry a lantern, but I do not meet that hon- 
est man, his Excellency. Can you tell me if he is now 
within?” 

“ You will meet him in good time.” 

“ Any time is good wherein I meet him, but why de- 
lay ? ” 

“ Would you have him aroused from his slumber?’’ 

“ Surely not, if he slumbers in his own bed — but is 
he there ? This morning you put me off till evening, 
saying his Grace was not well — when night was come, 
you put me off till morning. 

“ When I asked you for certain papers to make up 
the toll of- my accounts, you professed to know noth- 
ing about them ; being pressed, you flatly refused me 
the privilege of searching for them. By St. Laurient! 
You carry it with a high hand ! 

“ There is something obscure, something hidden. It 
confirms the suspicion of the relatives abroad. They 
desire to have personal news of their cousin. Their 
anxiety is great, and my time is limited.” 

“Why need you care for their anxiety? You are not 
in their employ. And as to your time, the limit is 
with your master. Get you to bed and sleep off this 
fret of haste.” 

“ Can a horse sleep off his spurs ? I am ridden hard 


THE CONSPIRATOR. 


41 


by a great enterprise. I must be both here and away. 
Show me his Excellency, even if you have him mewed 
up in his chamber, and he no longer recognizes his faith- 
ful servant. Ah, you muse and turn away. Are his 
•secrets your secrets, any more than they are my secrets ? 
You are a physician — -you foster life which is, like a ball 
just thrown, already tending toward the earth, however 
you bat it aloft. But I am a lawyer, who deal with ti- 
tles, guarantees, lands and hereditaments. My scope 
is reaching into the dark of centuries to come. 

“ I must see my passing client — others are pressing. 
I see you are perplexed. A physician should take 
counsel when his patient is played upon by some rare 
genius whose discord is harmony he cannot understand. 
I have brought an expert — he lodges at an inn in town. 
Let him see your charge in the morning.” 

“ Ah, Bousset!”and the grave gentleman smiled 
keenly and coldly, “ your blood was ever thick with 
morbid fancies, and your brain is cobwebbed with wiles 
and schemes. You have wasted no time since your 
arrival — you have already attempted to suborn the 
wife of the gardener. Nay, do not gesture a denial. 

“ I saw you, as I descended the stairs. I lingered 
for the sake of the comedy. But you should remem- 
ber at a bribe, truth retires into the solitude of the 
soul, while the villainies of nature come trooping to 
the tongue.” 

‘‘Never mind the homilies,” broke in Bousset, “but 
tell me at what hour I shall summon my expert?” 

“ You may put that question to his Excellency when 
you see him.” 

“ Yes, when I see him ! By St. Laurient ! It is not 
to be endured. The noble estates lapse into ruins. 
The power of an old house is squandered. And while 
we gather rust, and wait his vagrant fancies, the golden 


42 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


opportunities at court, .the apples of Hesperides, are 
lost to us, and are gathered by our enemies. I saw a 
beggar in the stage-coach as I came from Rondaine, 
who would match our patron for a thousand crowns ! 
and in his arms he held a slip of youth that was his 
better miniature — such things nature does in duplicate, 
using the same die twice over in her vehement and 
prodigious haste. Now would it not be a pretty thing 
to do — but need I speak more ? Surely, you get at the 
kernel of my meaning. Mind though it is only a fancy 
— a spark struck out by the spur of passing.” 

“ I confess I do not understand your meaning. There 
never was digestion in my ear for treason. But this 
beggar — was he — was the boy — Pshaw ! What can it 
matter ! ” 

“ I tell you this beggar was the image in clay of his 
Excellency in fine marble. The exterior could be made 
perfect, and the interior could be tricked out for the 
purpose like a house with hired furniture. And the lad 
was the father’s epitome. Shrewd men of the world 
would make their terms with the beggar, and then hav- 
ing coached him for the part he must play, and having 
sleeked him with manners, the ape’s best’livery, would 
give him life term in the neglected principality, and the 
son after him.” 

A peal of derisive laughter broke forth from the 
physician, stinging the ears of his opponent until he 
quailed. 

“Can this hackneyed machinery be made to work 
again, or is knavery so poor it lacks invention ? I al- 
ways said, Bousset, that you spoiled an actor when you 
gave yourself up to the tarnishing of law. In that 
profession one may wear many faces and be many char- 
acters until our budding pleasure flowers in applause, 
but a Janus-faced lawyer is men’s aversion. A coun- 


THE CONSPIRATOR. 48 

sellor for both plaintiff and defendant is enemy to 
both.” . 

Suddenly he ceased and leaned his head so longingly 
that I thought he must hear music. He put out his 
hand as if to hush the foxy face before him, while a 
troubled pleasure shone in him, like the sun behind the 
cloud. 

“ Stay here,” he said, “ I return anon ” And mor- 
tally afraid that he might have heard Tom, my beating 
heart went with him. 

Like a translator who deals in the sense more than 
in the script of his author, I have given the conversa- 
tion which occurred so long ago. Excited as my mind 
was that night, not the smallest sound has escaped my 
memory. If I shut my eyes I can hear the lonely call 
of the sea, the cool whispering.of the wind in the vines ; 
the warm room comes before me, the two men are 
gesticulating, and at their farce of argument, and the 
same pain visits my heart that I should out of mere 
weakness of body, be left to play the dishonorable part 
of listener while waiting at my post. 

Bousset looked after his host with a sneer, and, out 
of sheer malignancy, mimicked his attitude and words. 
And then, in the instant, opening the door thinly, he 
applied his ear to the aperture for a long minute, 
when, turning, asjf assured of a little time, he picked 
op the candle which he had put down when he had 
entered, and holding it up, looked keenly about the 
room. At the same time he turned up the flaps of his 
long vests, and felt in the pockets with a sort of lei- 
surely haste, fishing out a scrap of paper, which he 
held up to the light. 

He nodded his head, and gliding once more to the 
door, turned rapidly and approached a panel picture 
between two cases of books. He ran his hands over 


44 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


it in haste, when it suddenly sprang open, disclosing a 
secret recess. He gathered up the papers it contained, 
and running them over, scanned them with lightning 
rapidity. Evidently disappointed, he thrust them back 
and pushed the panel in place, snarling at it like a 
beast, and striking it in peevish anger. 

A moment after, when the gentleman returned, he 
was drearily yawning in his chair, but looked up with 
impudent expectation. 

“ Has he come ? ” he cried. 

“ Has who come ? ” was the cold reply, while the 
speaker looked about the room. 

“Then you have seen nothing ? ” 

As an answer, Bousset found himself pinioned in his 
chair, and turned, as in the grasp of a giant, until he 
faced the secret cabinet, the panel of which stood open, 
the spring having recoiled under his unwitting blow. 

Shrinking before his discovered crime, Bousset, like 
a ferret, looking for escape, turning his eyes furtively, 
encountered mine, and pointed a trembling hand. 
Without a word, the two men, one in awe and one in 
consternation looked straight at me. Behind them 
and unperceived, stood Tom, his dull, sorrowful face 
lighted up by the glow of the live coals, and his eyes 
fixed on mine in pain and anxiety. 

There was that in Tom’s face which told me to flee, 
and suddenly as the lightning slips from its crag of 
clouds, I had vanished from their sight. Almost at 
the instant, as I turned an angle of the building, I 
heard the window thrown open with a crash, and knew 
the two men were in pursuit. A sense of wrong and 
humiliation smote me deeper than an arrow could have 
done, but I had no time for thought ; some one seized 
me with a strong arm and drew me into an open door, 
which was shut sharply behind me. The warmth was 


the conspikatok. 


45 


delicious. In the light I looked up and saw it was 
Tom who held me, though I knew as much by his 
touch in the dark. He led me over tufted carpets, and 
up a wide stair-case, into a room, from the open window 
of which, we saw the two men peering about the 
garden as if completely mystified. 

My knees began to bend under me, and a lethargy 
stole up my veins, numbing my body and my arms, my 
head drooped forward, and I was fast shrinking into 
unregardful slumber. 

“ Cheer up, little Jude ! ” murmured my faithful 
friend, as he chafed my limbs, and took me into his 
arms. His strong excitement tingled into my veins 
like electricity, and I regained my consciousness once 
more. Holding me to his heart he paused in front of a 
door, under which the light streamed over the sill. 

“We have come ! ” he gasped hoarsely, and gave a 
stealthy mysterious signal, but there was no response. 

He waited a moment. How fast his heart throbbed, 
lifting me like a boat on its tide. He turned the knob 
and breathing, “ Your pardon ! ” he opened the door. 
How bewildered he seemed when he found the room 
hallowed and empty. 

At the door of another he stood as if undetermined 
whether to enter or not, looking furitively at me and 
sighing deeply. Had I not been possessed of the spirits 
of that night, I should not have yielded my will so 
tamely, but should have questioned and probably have 
resisted, but now I was impelled on and on, and should 
have entered rings of fire, and tripped sinking into 
whelming floods if Tom had led me. He opened the 
door of this room, and we stepped within. A lamp 
was burning dimly, which- he proceeded to revivify 
with brighter flame. A beautiful young girl lay sleep- 
ing in the silken covered bed. She opened her eyes 


46 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


wide, as if bursting unmindful out of a dream, and 
gazed into mine with a serious intensity, and then 
closed them softly, sinking back into unregardful 
slumber. 

I have a confused recollection of being drawn about 
the house, into many rooms, of having glimpses of 
magnificence, Tom muttering and perplexed, and car- 
rying me away again, into the night, or rather darkness 
of the dawn, where again I fell asleep walking, and 
knew no more. 

When I again opened my eyes to knowledge, I was 
in my long accustomed room, in the sombre house of 
my childhood, hearing the waves jarring on the wind, 
and the long branches of the trees, like skeleton fingers, 
rattling at the casements. 

My mother was bending over me, with more of love 
and anxiety yearning in her face than I had ever seen 
before. Days and nights, doves and crows, flew over 
me unheeded. I burned with fever, and in my delirium 
babbled of the scenes of that mysterious night. It 
was thought to be only delirium, and no note was taken 
of my ravings. I had been missed from the school and 
sought for on all sides, and it was supposed that I had 
wandered home by stage and foot during the unconscious- 
ness of fever, and somehow had gotten into the house 
during the night, and had mechanically found my room 
and bed, where I was discovered in the morning. Long 
after, I found this was not the theory of my mother, 
nor of Dr. Murray, whose steady, profound eyes, seemed 
to me, in my lucid intervals, to study me with a linger- 
ing purpose. But my mother asked me no questions, 
and kept her surmises hidden, nor did I allude to the 
•subject when I had recovered from my illness. It 
seemed to me that I had come upon the borders of a 
mystery that could not be explained, but that I should 


THE CONSPIRATOR. 


47 


grow to comprehend in far futures. I recall that Tom 
sometimes came and leaned over me, with eyes wistful, 
and a forsaken face, but as I shrank within myself, and 
gave no sign of need, or of love, ha would withdraw 
moaning, and at last ceased to come. 

When I was well again, I crept about the halls and 
into the solemn rooms, with a sense of aching and lone- 
liness I cannot describe. It is most deplorable in the 
dawn of youth, when all the world should be opening 
to the fresh spirit, petal by petal, like a gorgeous 
flower, to feel instead, that there is something dim 
and vast, and terrible, underlying all with a subtile 
meaning. 

It was after midnight, later on in Spring, when the 
orchard in our great garden was heavy with bloom, 
and the drunken winds were murmuring in the dark 
about the house, that the sensitive aura that surrounds 
us all, gave intimations through my slumber, that Tom 
was bending over me. I opened my eyes, and he was 
gazing sadly down upon me holding a lighted candle in 
his hand, the better to observe my features. The old 
tenderness awoke in me, and I held out my arms to 
him. His embraces, and his gurgles of delight in his 
mellifluous foreign tongue were soothing and tender to 
my soul. 

“Why have you been so cruel to me, little Jude?” 
he questioned over and over again. 

“ Alas, Tom ! ” I mournfully began, “ there is some- 
thing wild and strange about you. You come and go, 
and I cannot understand. Why did you leave me in 
that lonesome forest ? and who was the traveler who 
stood over me grieving, and wringing his hands? And 
who was it that felled him to the earth ? A short way 
off I heard him groaning, and I could not move, and 
then you came. And why took you me to the great* 


48 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


house, and why did you hurry me from room to 
room, and in where the sweet girl lay sleeping, and how 
came I here? ” 

A look of solemn awe came over the features of the 
hapless one. “Did you see him ?” he whispered. “Oh, 
tell me, tell me ! ” 

“ Oh, .Tom,” I cried, the old terror creefung back 
on me, like an icy wind, “ who was he ? Tell what you 
mean.” 

“It was my master.” 

“ Your master, Tom ? ” 

“ I have never seen him, and I never shall. He 
holds himself aloof in mournful grandeur. I can come 
no further than the shadow of his presence. When he 
has need of me, no voice calls me, but I feel the keen- 
ness of his desire breathing through me like a wind in 
darkness. Though I should lie in my bed sleeping, I 
must rise and go to him. I love you, little Jude, but 
he has a deeper interest' in you than I. He calls me 
from you, and it is he who sends me to you. When 
you need me most, I shall come again, but now he 
needs me and I must go away. My heart is very sore, 
little Jude, for the parting may be long, but one day 
we shall both go to him, and then we shall not sorrow 
any more.” 

“ Oh, Tom,” I cried, “ do you think it was he that 
came to me when you left me in the forest ? ” 

“ Yes; yes, it was he. But I thought he wished the 
meeting to occur in his own house, not in the wilder- 
ness. I wanted to be with you in that hour. I ex- 
pected great results. I left you a moment to seek out 
a plainer road, but when I came back, I knew that you 
had seen him and he was gone.” 

Out in the orchard we heard a flapping of wings, and 
a cock crowed shrilly from among the apple boughs, 


THE BANKER DISCOURSES OF POISONS. 49 

while a flaw of blossoms pelted lightly in at the open 
window. Tom was moaning softly, and pacing the 
room. He came back to me, and while time paused 
one little moment, we were weeping in each other’s 
arms. I hid my face in the pillow, and Tom was gone. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE BANKER DISCOURSES OF POISONS. 

As the days went by and Tom was not seen, I was 
pained to notice that the other members of the house- 
hold breathed more freely, and as if an incubus had 
been raised from their breasts. But tins grief, as well 
as the hidden grief of absence, was in some measure 
alleviated by the increased tenderness bestowed upon 
me by my mother. There was more warmth in her 
touch, more solicitude in her eyes, and a sort of heal- 
ing balm was breathed into me with her words. And 
yet, at times, the same incomprehensible indifference 
would follow the gentlest manifestation of her love, as 
if she suffered from some spiritual ague which was be- 
yond the art of any but that last physician of the soul. 
She seemed an object of perplexity to Dr. Murray, who 
sometimes studied her countenance as though he put 
his eyes against her own and looked down deep into 
the workings of her mind. 

“ You have not told me all, dear madam,” I once 
heard him say, “and it is the final confidence which 
discloses the knotted root of sorrow.” 

She smiled faintly and replied, “But if it cannot be 
tugged away without pulling the heart strings with 
it ! ” and would have said more, but a harsh laugh was 
heard in the hall, followed by the dry, uneasy laughter 
4 


50 PHANTOM DAYS. 

of my father, and steps sounded as if h$ was about to 
mount the stairs. 

My mother caught her hand to her side, and said 
hastily, “ I cannot see Mr. Schanck to-night. He evi- 
dently has come to supper. Be so good as to bear my 
excuses, and my plea of illness, and remain to the 
meal, and let me see you afterwards.” 

“And so the madam has the megrims again,” ob- 
served my surly uncle, when we were seated at the 
table. “ Upon my soul, all women have supped of slow 
poison. Among all animals they are the only females 
which cannot mate their lords in tough endurance. 
Men deserve to be thrice honored who have risen to 
eminence from loins so feeble.” 

My father rose hastily, muttering something about a 
draught, and shut the door leading into the hall, while 
Dr. Murray turned an intense gaze of disapproval full 
in the face of the banker. He gave it back with inso- 
lence, while reaching forward he pulled the chief dish 
to his plate, exclaiming : 

“ Upon my word, David, what have we here ? Tur- 
bot? Before Gad, I thought it was sturgeon ! I mag- 
nify all good things since Tom Crispin took the road. 
Do you know, Doctor, I had as lieve swallow the broth 
of Mithradates as to eat sturgeon ! 

“ Once, when I was traveling on the Volga, we cap- 
tured an enormous fellow. He came fighting out of 
the water like a dragon 

“We had a famous cook who boiled him in a cauldron 
of oil, and turned him on the table with all his armor 
on. Seven Russians sat down to the feast with us, 
and you know your Russian will eat his weight in stur- 
geon, and of these seven, four died, poisoned by the 
flesh of the vicious brute.” 


THE BANKER DISCOURSES OF BOISONS. 51 

“ I have always denied that any fish is poisonous per 
se,” objected the Doctor. 

“ I enter into no fine points,” was the reply, “ but I 
do know when 1 saw those burly fellows begin to reel, 
and turn black in the face, as if their sins pushed forth 
to be catalogued — when they cried out that they saw 
yellow and red visions, and their great voices became 
hoarse and toneless, though I suffered perturbation my- 
self, and half my men were groveling in pain, I 
couldn’t help extolling the wit of the big fish who had 
his revenges after he had been boiled and eaten ! ” j 

44 How did the men die ? ” 

44 Oh, in a sort of hydrophobia, gasping for driijk, 
and spilling it in spasms, the eyes fixed and blind, 
with tongues silent, but the mind conscious to the last. 
The heart kept beating after the man was dead. I have 
always said since if I could afford it, I would import 
sturgeon from the Volga to give my enemies when they 
come to my funeral feast.” 

44 Will you not have wine with your fish, brother 
Jesse,” said my father, pouring him a glass and sending 
it to him by a servant. 

44 No, no ! ” he thundered, pushing old Ponto’s hand 
so violently that half the contents of the glass were 
spattered on the cloth. 44 The man who succeeds in 
pouring wine into me, will be a rascal who means to 
float my secrets to the top. I say, Doctor, what a capi- 
tal thing it is though, for hiding death in !” 

And as he ate, he grew hilarious, seemingly intoxi- 
cated by his own words, as he discoursed of kings and 
popes who removed their rivals and the daring, with 
cups poured by their own hands, and graced with com- 
pliments. And he told of Hindoos who poison trav- 
elers with henbane, and rob them in their sleepy de- 
lirium. Men, he sneered, were but a sort of vegetable, 


52 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


subject to the same decays in life, and going into the 
elements at last like puff-balls. And being such, ex- 
periments upon them were not to be branded with 
harsh intolerance. And he complained querulously 
that the little knowledge he had gained of drugs, had 
been culled from the pain of animals, and not from 
whole hospitals as was the way of physicians. 

“You can’t be sure that what kills a goat or a mon- 
key will have any effect on a man,” he snarled. 
“ When some people were poisoned by eating ice-cream, 
on a time, I gave a plateful of it to your dog, David, 
and he licked his chops greedily for more. You see 
there is no rule ! ” 

My father’s face was sickbed over with horror, and 
he could not eat, but still he smiled dimly, as though 
he had heard a most excellent joke in his sleep. I 
minced at some devilled chicken, and did not notice the 
biting sauce, while I listened with fascinated terror. 
The room was growing dark, and the black servants 
who had come in with candles, stood chattering with 
fear at one corner, forgetting to put their lighted tapers 
on the table. My uncle got up menacing, and turned 
them all into the kitchen, shutting the doors, and put- 
ting the candles on the board. Dr. Murray, who had 
been watching him seriously for half an hour, and fret- 
ting him with doubts and negative conjectures, denied 
an assertion he had made as to the enormously ex- 
tended effects of mixed poisons. And as every objec- 
tion had but increased the turbulent energy of his 
speech, the grizzled banker now overleaped all caution, 
and thrilled us with stories of his merciless experiments 
on animals, telling of their automatic lives thereafter, 
their coming and going, eating and sleeping, when the 
brain was sealed up, and intelligence suspended. 

“But man is exalted above these morbid influ- 


THE BANKER DISCOURSES OF BOISONS. 53 


ences ? ” exclaimed the doctor, dogmatically, “ and bale- 
ful drugs must work him ruin, quickly, or the mind 
resists their usurpation : the flesh may yield under the 
long torture but the soul is calm and superior, shining 
to the last in the desolation of its home.” 

“ I grind such assertions under my feet ! ” hissed the 
excited old man. “ I know what I know ! ” and he 
looked perfectly demoniacal. 

“And what do you know! Some far ago of sailors’ 
lies, told under a lantern while the mildewed sails 
creaked in the night some pot-pourri of ancient tales 
and modern credulity — ” 

“To the pit with you ! You shall not tantalize from 
me one jot ! ” 

“ You insult brave controversy when you come full 
tilt like a knight, and creep backward like a craven. 
There are flaws upon the mind, subtle diseases of the 
brain, bewildered coherences, and animal automatisms 
that are beyond your art. You have mistaken for the 
workings of your grosser poisons, things that are mani- 
fest to the scientist, as belonging to the spiritual, and 
not to be infections of the material world.” 

“ I detest your theorist,” cried my venomous uncle, 
“he is a crazy kite-flyer, lying on his back and guessing 
at colors and vapors. When I was at— Bombay, there 
was a brace of rich Croesuses who embarked on an In- 
dian vessel for Java. The captain was a thug, and he 
put mingled poisons in the wine which the travelers 
drank. One became ecstatic, the other, moody, and 
lost his former noble expression, wandered aimlessly 
about the ship, smiled unmeaningly, caught the froth 
of the waves and gloated over it as if he held pearls, 
forgot his affairs, lost his identity, and was shamelessly 
robbed while himself stood by and held the lamp for 
the robber. I saw him afterward in Java; he was 


54 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


dressed in tatters, and was led about by a silly child 
for whom he had conceived a fondness.” 

“And did he leave the child in the dead of night, 
and never come back again ? ” I shrilled, startled out 
of myself by unwonted excitement, and the sore wound 
in my heart which was bleeding afresh for Tom. 

The doctor started up and hurried me from the room, 
while I heard the eccentric banker raving at my inter- 
ruption, and my father apologizing in a minor key. 


CHAPTER VI. 

MARIE DE ROUYILLE. 

Many times during the succeeding years the face of 
the young girl came to me, floating in, as on a mist, and 
her large eyes would open to gaze one moment into 
mine, and then she would pass away into the dark- 
ness. Moping about the house one day, dreaming over 
the old dreams, I suddenly determined that I would 
make a tour of the country about the town, and find 
if I could chance upon any trace of the path Tom and 
I had pursued that ghostly night ; or if anywhere up 
or down the shore I could discover the large mansion 
where our adventures ended. I began to reproach my- 
self that I had not endeavored before, and at once, set 
off on my search. And, indeed, I had not been an 
hour gone, before I felt instinctively that I was tread- 
ing familiar ground. Things, of course, had a different 
aspect, the glare of daylight being shed where the 
moon had woven a glamour of mysticism, but the sun 
was high up where that pale orb had shown, and the 
wind was gently blowing the odor of brine and pro- 
longing the sea-sounds, as then. 


MARIE DE ROUVILLE. 


55 


And sometimes, keeping the sun at my back, and 
the wind fanning my left cheek, sometimes walking 
with my eyes closed, I came to a fine old park of forest 
trees hard by the shore, which I entered, presently, 
coming out on a spacious garden. 

In this stood here and there, a few pieces of statuary, 
then an unusual thing, though now so commonly seen. 

Everywhere a delightful turf, green and springy, 
spread silently like a smoothed wave among the flow- 
ers and shrubs, **nd further on I beheld a great, gabled 
house, surrounded by noble trees and knew it was the 
same — the object of my quest. My heart rose excit- 
edly, and all my nerves thrilled with anticipation. 

Two girls, accompanied by a stately greyhound, and 
followed by a quaint bundle of a woman whom I knew 
afterward to be the Dutch wife of the gardener, were 
walking about the grounds, but gradually approaching 
where I stood. One of them was very animated, pull- 
ing flowers, singing snatches of song, and sometimes 
stopping in her walk to execute the figures of a dance. 
Her companion was often moved to laughter by these 
sallies, after which they would for a moment twine 
their lithe arms around each other and resume their 
walk. 

Suddenly a voice was heard, calling in the French 
tongue, and the gayer of the two young creatures* re- 
turned, skipping and carroling, and went into the 
house. The other continued her promenade, laying a 
slender white hand on the greyhound’s neck as she 
came nearer to the wood. I had halted spellbound, at 
the foot of a giant oak, for I had perceived this young 
girl was no other than the little lady of my adventure. 

The hound raised its delicate head, regarding me 
some distance off, and quitting its young mistress, 
came straight toward me, whimpering as if pleased. 


56 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


The girl stopped for a moment, looking at me with 
frank, unstartled eyes, and then coming directly 
toward me with the liveliest curiosity exhibited in her 
face. 

“ Who are you ? ” she asked, “ I have seen you be- 
fore, or have dreamed that I have.” 

I am sure I blushed, and my heart beat a little 
quickly as I met this gentle, engaging creature, and 
heard her voice for the first time, alluding to the very 
incident that had sometimes seemed to me as only a 
dream indeed. The quaint little Dutch woman seemed 
to give me encouraging smiles, as she nodded and 
quivered and fanned her comical red face in the near 
back-ground. 

“I’m Jude Ruland, and live in the town, and I have 
seen you before, or I also have dreamed.” 

“ Tell me what it was you dreamed?” and her voice 
was grave, while a demure expression stole over her 
eyes. 

The greyhound was standing between us turning 
his eyes as if he too, was listening ; his mistress had 
placed a hand on his neck, and I, impelled by a respect- 
ful desire, also placed my hand on his glossy coat, 
while my eyes wandered among the trees and took in the 
glowing flowers and radiant glimpses of the sea as I 
studied for the moment how I could impart what I had 
seen. I felt reluctant to speak of Tom or of my actual 
presence in the house that night, for there was some- 
thing clandestine about the proceeding that gave a 
feeling of mortified honor, so to gain time, I questioned 
in my turn. 

“ But you have not told your name ? ” 

“ It is Marie de Rouville : I have lately come from 
Thionville to be with my uncle, and I live in yonder 


MAElE t>E ROUYILLE. 57 

house ; ” indicating with a movement of her head. 
“ Now, tell me what you dreamed.” 

“ I dreamed that a spirit took me through the silent 
moonlit arches of the night, and left me for a moment 
in a pretty room, where by the light of a lamp left 
burning, I saw a fair young girl slumbering under a 
silken coverlid, and while I gazed at her, she opened 
her eyes wide and gazed into mine, a straightforward, 
wondering glance, then closed her eyes and fell at once 
into a deep sleep, and the spirit took me again into the 
night and I knew no more.” 

“ And did the maiden resemble me ? ” 

“ When I saw you a minute ago, I knew you at once 
to be the same. There could be no mistaking that 
lustrous face and the blue depth of your eyes.” 

“ Now is that not passing strange ? ” she murmured, 
“ I too, dreamed. There were sounds of haste about the 
house, quick foot-steps within, and a sort of fate ap- 
proaching me, dim and disguised, and my chamber door 
opened and the room grew brighter, and for what 
seemed a long time, I struggled to arouse myself, and 
suddenly my eyes opened as if I had burst through an 
obscuring cloud. And T saw you, methinks, as plainly 
as I see you now, standing right near me, and fixing 
your eyes in mine. But you looked so sad and weary 
that T felt stirrings of pity deep in my heart, but the 
cloud of sleep closed over me and you were gone.” I 
said how strange it was, and at her request described 
the appointments of her room ; and she, fhe very garb 
I had on, the haggard expression I had. And from 
that we fell to other talk, while she waited for her 
companion whose name I learned was Jacqueline. 
Soon I knew the daily routine of her innocent, studious 
life : and on my part I sketched the sombre shadows 


8 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


of my home, and told something of my life and its 
lack of warmth and purpose. 

“ You poor boy ! ” cried Marie, u how can they leave 
you to your solitary musings ! Does not your mother 
love you dearly ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ! ” I impetulously broke in, “ she is the 
fairest and gentlest of beings, but there is some grief, I 
am sure, that absorbs her, and prevents her from seeing 
how cheerless I sometimes am.” 

“ Perhaps you are imaginative in your disposition, 
and thus demand greater sympathy than quiet lives 
require ? ” 

“ Or than quiet lives can give,” I added, “ yes it may 
be so, for many things occur to nurture darksome fan- 
cies in my brain.” 

“ Have you no young companions ? ” 

“None ; whilst he who was most my companion was 
a strange, grave man, who never smiled, and thus I lost 
the gaiety of laughter and boyish wiles ; but, oh, he 
was so charming in his love and thoughtfulness, for 
me ! ” And then with deft touches, I drew Tom’s deep 
and affectionate character, hiding in m y own breast 
whatever was mysterious, wild and disordered about 
him. 

“You have drawn a striking picture;” said the 
stately little maiden, “ lie is a grand fellow, and must 
give you great solace. I should like to see him. Is he 
in this wood, for as he follows you about so kindly, he 
cannot be far away ? ” 

“ Alas ! ” I mournfully replied, “ he has gone on a 
long journey, and he told me he would not return for 
many a day.” 

“ Do not let the sad tears come into your eyes, or I 
shall weep too ! ” and little Marie’s voice faltered. 
“ You are a comely boy and have gentle thoughts. I 


MARIE DE ROUVILLE. 


59 


shall ask Madame Chevreul to let you come here. Jac- 
queline and I, perhaps can cheer you, and we shall 
have great pleasure in knowing you, for I am sure my 
uncle would approve the acquaintance. And, oh, I 
wish you could know my uncle, he is such a noble gen- 
tleman, so handsome, so clever ; but he is ill now and 
they have taken him on a long tour. But yonder 
comes Jacq’ueline, looking for me, and I must return to 
my lessons. Be here at this hour in two or three days, 
and I will come with our good Gretchen to bring you 
to the house.” And here she gave me her hand as if 
to seal a promise, while the good Gretchen bowed and 
beamed upon me, nodding and nodding her head. 

They turned and walked away among the flowers, 
Marie looking back to smile at me, and so, disap- 
peared. 

I heard Jacqueline singing, and hoping to see Marie 
again, I could scarcely turn away. I had not got half 
through the park, when I heard a rushing s'ouncl behind 
me, and here came the noble hound, putting his muzzle 
into my hand, and walking by my side until I reached 
the shore, when he quitted me and walked back toward 
the house 

Not in three days, but the very next day, so resist- 
less was the impulse, I found myself walking along 
the firm, packed sand of the shore, the business part of 
the town disappearing on my right, the green waves 
curling before me and making a soft thunder as they 
broke at my feet. Little sand-pipers were wheeling 
in short flights as I approached, and dipping their yel- 
low feet in the brackish pools, while a herd of red cat- 
tle had wandered out of the tall grass of the meadow, 
and were lifting their horned heads-as they faced the 
breeze, and gazed out over the water, lowing, as if for 
emerald meads beyond the sea. I only noticed, how- 


60 PHANTOM 1 DAYS. 

ever, the evidences of wildness lingering about their 
shaggy ears and branching tails, and thought how ill- 
sorted were these marks with their great liquid eyes, so 
soft and purple. Neither did I more than glance at 
the fishermen I passed, engaged in beaching their boat, 
from which the greenish blue and white of the yet rest- 
ive fish appealed to the eye ; nor did I pour, as I had 
been wont to do, upon the white sails which the puff- 
ing wind blew gallantly down the horizon where the 
day seemed to end, and another to be linked on in the 
shining round of time. 

An unaccustomed warmth was in my mind, and I 
sunned my dreams at it, and much they needed it, so 
long had they been accustomed to lift their wings in 
grewsome skies, and to skirt the dim coast of myster- 
ies. 

At length I drew near the little park or miniature 
forest, rather, so well had nature worked her fantasies, 
tangling the paths with thorn and vines, making a slen- 
der brook to brawl at the roots of the chestnut and 
oak, and flattering the hawk to build his nest in the 
top of a blasted pine, while there were sunny recesses 
carpeted thick with sward, and glimpses of the sea to 
"be caught down sudden vistas, and at every turn one 
might catch a portion of the big mansion through the 
swaying boughs. A multitude of birds were swinging 
on the leafy sprays, caroling, curveting, pursuing, and 
making a medley of delightful sounds in the Dryad’s 
ears. 

I saw the late buds of a magnolia, gleaming with 
ivory whiteness in a thicket of heavy green leaves, and 
drawing down the slender stems of the tree, I plucked 
them and bore them away. Soon I was at the mouth 
of the little avenue and gazing at the house, but saw 
only a gaudy peacock that had flown aloft, and was 


MARIE DE ROUVILLE. 


61 


sitting on the great, red roof. I did so long to go into 
the 'garden and take a peep into the low window of the 
library again. I almost felt it possible to bring back 
the incidents of that night. 

Thinking I might not see the young girl that day, 
and chiding myself, though without severity, for hav- 
ing come before the appointed time, I was about to 
walk away, when I heard the wind-like rush of the 
greyhound’s feet, and saw that animal with his head 
straight out, pointed, undeviating, coming toward me 
like an arrow from a great cross-bow. Emerging from 
a clump of shrubbery not far away, came his maiden 
mistress. The hound seemed rejoiced to see me, rub- 
bing his glossy side against me, and kissing my hand 
with a furious emotion. 

“ Luck, is descended from ancestors who have been 
born in our kennels for generations, and so is supposed 
to have been imbibed the family traditions for a thou- 
sand years, and I take it as a great compliment that he 
so heartily approves of you,” cried Marie. While the 
immense old Dutch chaperon fell to dimpling and nod- 
ding ; — “ I thought you would be here,” she quaintly 
remarked. 

“ But you know you should not have come until to- 
morrow, or the day after that ! ” added Marie. “ But 
now that you are here, you must tell me why you came 
at all, yesterday. I have been thinking of that. Was 
it the spirit that brought you ? and in full daylight ? ” 

“ Yes, I think it was the spirit,” I replied, smiling in 
turn, “ I felt drawn to find you if possible, and when I 
had seen you again, I could not keep away.” 

“ But Madam Chevreul says you must ! She does 
not like men, and boys, you know, grow to be these,” 
I turned with great annoyance, to find the voice came 
from the gay companion I had seen with Marie, the 


62 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


day before. She had a very arch face, challenging 
eyes, hair twined in the very blackest of ringlets, 
every cell in her body, turning as it were upon a 
coral pivot, for she was everywhere animated like the 
small sea that has stolen landward behind the inlet 
bar, 'which, feeling the swing of the mighty impulse 
of the incoming flood, dances and rocks the isles to 
strong melodies, and there was always a gleam at her 
lips, like the lustre of this little sea. 

“It - is Jacqueline,” said Marie, simply, and without 
embarrassment, “ and this is the gentle boy, J ude Ru- 
land, that I told you and Madam Chevreul of. I am 
glad you came. I wanted you to see him. I was about 
to tell him in other words, what you have imparted. 
Madam Chevreul is a good woman ” 

“ Oh, Marie,” cried the other, “ how can you say so ! 
Hereafter she will never let our chubby, handsome 
Gretchen attend us, since the enemy has broken our 
enclosure. Ah, that Madam Chevreul! When the 
knives are dull at table, I know who has the edge — 
this thin-lipped Madam Chevreul ! If the wine is sweet, 
I know I shall get the acid from Madam Chevreul ! 
Spendthrift of words, why should she purse her mouth ! 
She has all knowledge at her finger ends, so that her 
head may be kept empty to gather whispers and the 
thinnest rustle of romance leaves, a slip in grammar, — 
why, I think she can hear a smile, or eyes turning ask- 
ance, or a shrug made in the dark. She would have us 
dance in zig-zags instead of curves. She culls all lus- 
cious sounds from language and makes conversation, to 
the ear, like shards and flints to the feet of pilgrims. 
She will not let us read poetry until it has been well 
seasoned in the attics of men’s brains, for a thousand 
years, as Homer, ” 

“Why, what do you know of Homer, Jacqueline?” 


MARIE BE ROUVILLE. 


63 


“ That’s very unkind, Marie ! I know that it is said 
he sometimes nods, and so does Gretchen, but Madame 
Chevreul never does. That he sings of wrath, and so 
does Madame Chevreul! That he was blind, but there’s 
no such side in Madame Chevreul ! 

“ I would have told Master Jude many other choice 
bits, for I have made a study of Madame Chevreul, but 
I never could bear with interruptions, so I shall go now. 
Come, Luck ! That’s the hound, — he’s bad luck, 
though, when. Madame Chevreul speaks of him. One 
thing, however, in her favor, she’d toss him a crust 
sooner than a good word. Come Luck ! You won’t ? 
Then bad luck, — to you all ! ” 

And away she swung, like a rose twirled by the wind. 
I saw her break into a dance at a bend in the path, 
heard a snatch of song, an$ she was gone. 

“ Jaqueline is wilful, but has the best of hearts. She 
is really very much attached to Madame Chevreul, 
who is a wise old lady and full of kindness. She is 
our governess, and I covet her firm criticism almost 
as much as I do her praise, it steadies one so, and 
collects the wits to conquer difficulties. When I told 
her of you yesterday, she requested me to bring you 
to her when you came again, and as you are here I 
think you might come now. I trust she may con- 
sider our r request kindly, for Jacqueline has joined me 
in asking.” 

I felt a thrill of expectation at this sudden prospect, 
and was almost as much inclined to delay it, as to ad- 
vance, but one glance into the sweet, beaming face, and 
the wistful eyes that met my own, decided me at once, 
and I made a movement toward the house. 

“ Jacqueline ! ” called the young girl. The greyhound 
darted away at once in pursuit of her. 


64 


phantom bays. 


I bethought me of the flowers I had pulled, and 
gravely put them into Marie’s hand. 

“ How good of you;” she said simply, “there is al- 
ways something spicy and foreign suggested to me by 
magnolias, wherever I find them. They have come 
from a long distance, are tarrying but an hour, and soon 
will be going away.” 

“ I hope we are like them in that particular,” broke 
in a ringing voice. “But, Marie, you don’t mean to 
brave Madame Chevreul thus! Well, I can tell } r ou 
one thing for your comfort, Master Jude. You will be 
well jewed. She’ll cheapen your smart looks as though 
you were made of home-made cloth ; and your virtue as 
though she were buying you for a saddle horse. She’ll 
put you to your paces. Requiescat in pace.” 

“ You know Latin, I see ; ” returned I, “ but I 
shouldn’t have supposed there was enough spirit in a 
dead language for you ! ” 

“ Oh, I galvanize it ! ” cried the lively miss, with a 
pert toss of her head. “ I shall take care not to do that 
to Madame Chevreul though. I’ve shocked her too 
much in this world, I won’t in the next I am sure.” 

We were strolling through the alleys of that* garden 
which I had crossed that moonlight night in early 
Spring, and were approaching that house in broad day- 
light, which had seemed to me then to be almost unreal 
and altogether mysterious. As we passed a. clump of 
roses, a Diana with bended bow was ftying from her 
pedestal, as if to warn me away. Through the library 
windows a rather quaint looking elderly lady was to be 
observed at a desk, engaged in writing. Just as we were 
about to enter the hall door, Jacqueline took me aside, 
and said : “ Madame Chevreul has a very striking coun- 
tenance. I allude to her nose. She gives it great prom- 
inence. Indeed, I have made a map of her human form 


LONGINGS AND REVERIES. 


65 


divine, and have taken the liberty, of putting the fol- 
lowing name on that feature, Chevreul Promontory ! I 
should have put a light-house on it, but thought it not 
a subject to make light of. I have told you this to 
give you the following warning : When you are pre- 
sented to her, stand on your guard, on one side, else, in 
bowing, she may rake you with it as with a pike. And 
now, farewell ! ” 


CHAPTER VII. 

LONGINGS AND REVERIES. 

Now that I look back upon it, I feel convinced that 
my intercourse with these young girls, infrequent 
enough, as it was, was the only healthful influence that 
I enjoyed for many years. Their playful sallies, the 
walks we took by forest and sea, with Gretchen or Ma- 
dame Chevreul attending, the books we pored over, the 
paintings we dreamed before, the old weapons and armor 
we inspected in the great hall, the anticipations of life 
we indulged in, were so many pages of romance to de- 
light and cheer my spirit by retrospection, when we 
were separated. For separated we frequently were, for 
months, and once for a whole year. In winter the 
family went far South, or to New York, or made a tour 
of many cities, and all correspondence between my 
young friends and myself was strictly forbidden by 
that stern martinet, Madame Chevreul. 

A hundred times I felt impelled to go to my mother 
with my treasured secret, and I felt I should take great 
pleasure in imparting to her the smallest details, but 
in the first weeks of this new intimacy, a hundred 
things intervened to prevent -the-oonfidence I longed 
5 


66 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


to give. There were business troubles of some 
sort, which I did not understand, but I knew that 
there had been acrimonious debates between Judge 
Brief, as counsel for my mother, and my Uncle Jesse. 
The latter had uttered the most withering sneers, 
while he had refused to makq an accounting of sums 
he had received from my father, for various un- 
profitable investments, but had returned at different 
times trifling dividends, with bounteous promises for 
the future. 

And then too, there was more or less stately visiting 
in progress, and no quiet hours of intercourse, and so 
there seemed no especial time that was propitious. 
When I would be on the point of approaching the 
subject in some interval of these affairs, the fear would 
come that, I should be asked about the connection of 
Tom with my first acquaintance with this house, and 
the probability struck me dumb. My loyalty to him 
was greater than my duty to my mother, and the pain 
engendered at this enforced living of a dual life went 
far to benumb those sensibilities that once bled so 
cruelty at the want of sympathy in my home. 

But on the other hand my visits to the de Rouville 
mansion, for the want of this confidence, took on them 
a clandestine character that fretted my pride, and made 
me sometimes cold and formal with my friends, when I 
was longing to express the warmth and pleasure I ex- 
perienced in their society. And then, too, my mother 
must have noticed the difference in my manner, and 
probably experienced some relief in believing that I 
grew less dependent upon her affection, as I developed 
in my nature. At least that tormenting thought 
would obtrude itself and offer its bitter cup. But one 
glance into her serene eyes would restore my confi- 


LONGINGS AND REVERIES. 67 

dence, and almost evoke the confession tlnit I longed 
and yet dreaded to impart. 

In one of the rooms on the second floor she had her 
library and there she spent a great deal of her time, 
when not otherwise engaged, in reading, writing, 
sketching or playing oy her sweet, old-fashioned piano. 
This was the one rich room of the house in which I 
loved to linger. The furniture was made from such 
rare woods as exhaled perfumes, and the curtains were 
tapes'tries from old castles : Eastern rugs were on the 
polished floor, and the antique cases contained the finest 
classics. Some charming sketches were on the walls and 
two paintings by Cardevio, which glowed to the heart 
with beauty. And there was the portrait of an aunt 
Adelia, whose spirited and handsome face was ever a 
source of attraction to me. When a little child, I would 
stand and peruse it with a deep intensity, and now that I 
had become a tall and serious youth, I did not with- 
hold the tribute of my- admiration whenever I came 
within its atmosphere. -How often had I seen Tom 
poring upon it with a troubled, fascinated gaze ! 

Standing before it thus, one day, my mother came 
into the room, and putting her arm about my shoulder, 
she stood regarding it also, frequently looking down 
~up&n my face, and then up at the painting. 

“ Do I resemble her ? ” I whispered. 

“ All good peqple resemble each other ! ■” she smil- 
ingly replied, but it was one of those sad smiles which 
only peep out of solitudes. 

Before I could question her further, my father came 
softly in, glancing furtively, and standing for a mo- 
ment as if he would withdraw. It was one of those em- 
barrassing tokens of respct with which he grieved me, 
but I hastened to say something which should cover his 


* 68 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


action from my mother, and disguise it from myself, so 
I called out bravely : 

44 Oh, sir, I am so glad you came to us. I wanted to 
tell you how far I am advanced in Caesar’s Commen- 
taries. The teacher speaks well of my progress.” 

He came forward a little way, standing in an uneasy 
•posture, and said, in an undertone that, 44 he hoped I 
would study hard, and become just such another man 
as Caesar was — that it was his ambition that I should. 
He had always found Caesar spoken well of by all classes, 
and he had heard my Uncle Jesse -say that he was a 
great man.” And here my mother, who had been 
busying herself an oblivious moment at her desk, came 
forward cheerfully and put something into his hands, 
and they both went out. And looking after them, to 
my shame I could not resist comparing their persons 
and the obvious qualities of their minds, the one so full 
of repose and a gentle majesty that disarmed criticism, 
the other restless, with a spirit eaten into with the hu- 
mility of failure, and eye evasive — I checked myself, 
conscience stricken for the offence, and was drowned 
in a tide of melancholy emotions at once. 

When she came back half an hour later and saw me 
in an attitude of perplexed reflection, she gave one of 
her sorrowful smiles — what would I not give to see. one 
of them now, pathetic as they were ! but the green 
grass has hidden them long ago. And she said that she 
hoped I had not mistaken my father’s meaning ; that it 
was Caesar’s untiring energy, singleness of purpose, and 
fund of resource that he alluded to. Bless her kindly 
heart ! she would have covered your mistakes or mine, 
as graciously. 

She was one of those women whom nature had meant 
to have throned in high places, but whom fate, or that 
pressure of events we call fate, had deposited in an 


LONGINGS AND REVERIES. . 69 

humble niche. From thence she ruled with a mild and 
gentle sway ; too wise not to see to the depth of the 
common souls about her, but too charitable to seem to 
see, and piously believing in the righteous tendency of 
all things, she forgave most of the frailties of men, and 
gave encouragement by seeming to accept the show of 
intention as though it were sincere. But there is a 
great sadness in her heart who lives to be superior to 
her dearest surroundings. Women are different from 
men both in custom and nature in this that, when the 
sacred delights of home are found to be tawdry and un- 
real, they have no longer a hope upon earth, but cling 
to the semblance of domestic felicity in proportion to 
its vanishing warmth and comfortable assurance. 
Slowly it fades and slowly she saddens more and more. 
There is a great world outside and hands that ache and 
hearts that ache, for such a clasp and friendship that 
she might give, but without a charm, the god within 
holds her to the service of a barren temple, wherein she 
loses her bloom and fades perceptibly without a mur- 
mur. Were she a man, as home grew dull, and love 
was withering on the st§m, the voice of the world, how- 
ever his heart might be wrung, would have within it a 
charm never heard before, and lure him to its mighty 
ventures. 

There are a thousand reasons why superior women 
marry inferior men, perhaps, but it has seemed to me 
that there can be but one reason why such a woman has 
been fervently mated to a man she afterwards feels 
beneath her. She has loved him in her youth —in 
youth, when the commonest lives glow with beauty 
and hint of immortality, and not till after years does 
she discover for what base coin she has bartered royal 
soul and bod}^. 

But this deep philosophy I could not know. I only 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


70 . 

felt instead, that, something was at variance with my 
training. A sombre music was playing to which my 
chord of life did not respond. 

Four years had gone since I had seen Tom — was he 
dead? or did that fantastic master of his, yet keep him 
to his service far off ? Had he forgotten me ; or would 
he ever come again ? Was he busy developing those 
secrets he had intimated at our last interview ? Was 
the time ripening? The feeling was ever with me, like 
the key the player dwells upon while all the music 
revolves about it that, he was not far off. It might be 
possible that I should see him at any moment. I 
never heard the night wind approaching with a muf- 
fling sound from tree to tree until it buffeted against the 
house and entered at the window, but the pleasing 
terror spread through me that Tom had come, and thus 
announced was bending over me. 

If I was thus overwrought. I was not the only one 
about the' house, who faced mysteries, or felt desolate 
and unhappy. My father had of late begun, again, to 
scribble his eternal figures, and ponder the sums as if 
they were lucky numbers, bound to come up at a turn 
of the wheel. As of old, I found that his friends 
avoided him, now that his pencil was at its' specious 
flatteries. My mother exerted herself to dispel my 
gloom, but it wearied me to know that it_was an exer- 
tion, and to feel that she suspected my longing for 
Tom, and without sympathizing with me, dreaded the 
event. 

One night as I lay awake in my room in the moon- 
light she stole in thinking me asleep, and bending over 
me, kissed me. I twined my arms about her neck, and 
she leaned over me a long time, till I felt a tear drop on 
my face, and then she kissed me again and left me. 


LONGINGS AND REVERIES. 


71 


Dear heart, I wonder what unhappy thought was ever 
tormenting her gentle breast ! 

While I waited I -fell again to reading, and with a 
fine enthusism I became all that I read. Thus the 
germs of possibilities nature has sown in us all, ex- 
panded under fancy’s beam. 

While I read- Plutarch, my soul was thrilled with 
military glory. It seemed there was no government so 
exclusive, nor monarchy so haughty, nor opulent city 
walled about and defended with armies, but a great 
general could enter and overcome. .He had the magic 
armor, and the secret keys, and the all-powerful sword 
which nothing human could withstand. A god incar- 
nate, he walked forth and made the magnificence of 
mankind and the empire of the world his own. Na- 
tions crowding about him, wandered with him, over 
the green rolling star, to waste the strength of barbaric 
kings, and his name ran before him like the red light- 
ning before the rolling storm. Bards sang his famous 
deeds, and religions claimed him as an apostle, and the 
arts and commerce followed in his train. Th$ failing 
forces of the world he moulded anew, and made the 
strong come forth from the weak. And when at last 
he left the earth like a spent meteor flashing back into 
the sun, the long applause of fame lingered upon men’s 
tongues to the last ripple on the shores of time. 

I felt I must be a warrior, and wept before a valiant 
name, and could not sleep, like Themistocles stirred by 
the trophies of Miltiades. 

But the gorgeous panorama of the past unrolled be- 
fore my youth, was too densely crowded with a multi- 
tude of different figures, and none exactly alike, forme 
to be too long the thrall of any. The blare of trump- 
ets died away, and I was out upon the open sea with 
Columbus, the old world long sunk behind the horizon 


72 


' PHAHTOM DAYS. 


and stupendous mystery and fabulous lands beyond ! 
What a charm to a boy there is in a sailor’s life — the 
daring of adventure ; the commerce with strange 
lands ; new stars ; new scenes, the flowing winds and 
rolling seas! The strong enchantment was upon me, 
but slowly it dissolved, and other figures grew upon 
the canvas. Now it was a priest with soul inspired 
and tongue of eloquence, warning, pursuading, and en- 
couraging; closing behind the trembling penitent the 
iron doors, but opening before him the jasper gates of 
heaven. Or it wj,s the beloved physician walking un- 
scathed amid the horrid haunts of pestilence : taming 
the dragon of disease ; luring the life just wavering on 
the lips to burn once more within : bringing bloom to 
faded cheeks and radiance into eyes gone dim with 
weeping. 

Then came the lawyer, grave beyond men’s wont, 
wrinkled and wise. Searching for precedent and wary 
of new forms. The governor of the world, controller 
of men’s ways, inventor and investor of their means. 

And last the poet, just a thought less near than na- 
ture to the secret all things hide. 

Thus with a boy’s eyes I saw the glory and the maj- 
esty of tjqfical men, and heard them calling as with 
voices to come up higher and be one among them. But 
I could not see deeper than the sheen of glamour on 
their names — judgment was not yet, nor sorrow that 
sharpens men’s eyes, nor experience that ripens the 
mind. So, as each famous one possessed me for its 
day, my thought ran out to the end, smooth over diffi- 
culties, and set me peer upon an eminence with any 
wise and great. And sadly must my parents have be- 
held the growth of noble ambitions which faded away 
like cloudy splendors to be renewed in other shapes, 
and fade and grow again. For so captivating had this 


THE MYSTERIOUS BARGAIN. 


73 


species of intoxication become that, I renewed my rev- 
eries or dreamed them over, when I should have been 
laying the solid foundations of learning. My text 
books grew distasteful to me. I no longer felt a zeal 
for Latin, for why should I laboriously seek to acquire 
a key to that which translators had made open to every- 
body ? 'Or go into abstruse cycles of arithmetic .or al- 
gebra, when glorious actions are the th'en^es of men ? 
Geometry seemed a barren science, but poetry was 
warm, and rich, and far reaching as a thought of God. 
I looked upon my teachers as harsh and bigoted men, 
more concerned with the sowing of flints than of living 
seed in youthful minds. I longed for newer methods, 
royal roads to learning. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE MYSTERIOUS BARGAIN — MISS JUDE CONVERSES. 

In those days the great inter-state highways of com- 
merce were the canals, and as the country waxed 
richer, the wise-heads were continually planning these 
slow water ways, and shrewdly soliciting the aid of 
states in their behalf. The stock was highly regarded, 
and the promoters of these enterprises not infrequently 
became rich, or derived, at least, respectable incomes. 
As you might infer, my Uncle Jesse was always fore- 
most in fostering these works, and none so well as he 
could entice legislatures into extending them liberal 
subsidies, and none other could put them on the market 
with such success. About this time his mind seemed 
to become more daring and energetic, and projects of 
vast scope engaged his attention. 

“ I have fooled away too much of my time,” he ex- 


74 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


claimed to a coterie of his parasites, holding his court 
on a street-corner, as usual. “ I have a weakness, as 
you know, for studying human nature, not at its high- 
est, but at its lowest level, as if I expected to catch 
pearls at the turn of the tide ; and though I have lately 
sworn off, I find myself even now, searching the prints 
for accounts of vagabonds and imbeciles, who may 
have been ^arrested in divers towns and thrown into 
jail.” 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” laughed all, not exactly compre- 
hending the speech, but taking it for granted that it 
was some bitter pleasantry which led up to a more im- 
portant subject. To me it seemed there was an allu- 
sion to the one sore memory in my heart and I winced 
painfully and turned aside. Not so, my father, who 
followed the crowd which slowly moved away with the 
banker to his counting-room. 

Later in the day he came home in nervous excite- 
ment, gesturing with his fingers as though he counted 
fortunes upon them, and could scarcely wait until he 
had dined before he began to recount the various de- 
tails of the huge scheme the ' financier had unfolded 
during the morning. I remember well the flush on his 
cheeks, and the light in his pale eyes, which he seldom 
lifted to my mother’s, though she regarded him kindly 
and helped him on with his theme whenever he became 
involved. 

It seemed that my uncle had conceived the bold pro- 
ject of opening up the West to commerce, by uniting 
the head-waters of various deep rivers, so that a saving 
of a thousand miles in carriage, could be made by dig- 
ging a hundred and fifty miles of canal. The capital- 
ists of the city at first were dazed by the audacity of 
the design, but at length it seemed so feasible that, the 
wonder grew -that no man had thought of it before. 


THE MYSTERIOUS BARGAIN. 75 

4 

‘ As was the way of the banker, he had shaped this white 
heat of enthusiasm toward a practical end, and articles 
of incorporation which were already drawn, had been 
signed by a goodly number present, and himself at the 
hea6f of a committee, was to visit the state capitol at 
once, to forward a special act of protection, and to 
solicit the aid of the government, before the legislature 
adjourned. 

“ If I can take five thousand dollars of the stock,” 
added my father, in tones of tremulous eagerness, 
“Jesse promises to make me one of the directors, and 
to give me special opportunities of enriching myself.” 

“We will consult Judge Brief about it,” assented 
my mother, “and if he thinks well of it, when he has 
examined into the Act of Incorporation, I shall be only 
too glad to help you.” 

At this my father became moody and silent, even 
dejected, and wandered aimlessly out into the garden, 
where I saw him for an hour pacing in the face of an 
easterly mist, before he returned to the house and shut 
himself into his room. 

When Judge Brief visited our house, I thought no 
one was exactly at ease, there was such a precision of 
courtesy. Neither he nor my father looked at each 
other when they talked but my mother met either with 
a steady lustre that, I learned to know, was from a 
heart resigned and at peace with God. 

The Judge had long conducted my mother's business 
affairs to the displeasure of my uncle, who coveted the 
charge himself, and who with many a brusque epigram 
drove home the fact upon my father. In the first years 
of marriage the latter had essayed to manage her prop- 
erty, under the secret guidance of his brother-in-law, 
but all his speculations proved unfortunate, and he had 
lately reduced the estate, until at length, with quiet 


76 


Phantom days. 


but forceful dignity she had saved the remainder, by 
transferring its management to Judge Brief. My 
father, upbraiding himself for her losses, had concurred 
in this arrangement, but whenever he had come under 
the spell of any of his brother-in-law’s great achieve- 
ments in finance it brought back a faint radiance into 
many of his own exhausted speculations, and he begun 
to chafe at his position, and long for old privileges. 
But the very calmness of my mother put a silence on 
his spirit like oil on troubled waters. 

Two days after this Judge Brief came in on business, 
and my mother broached the affair to him as they sat 
on the back piazza and conversed together. The morn- 
ing was warm, and the sun shone on the front of the 
house, but on this piazza the deep shadows had lain 
since sunset, the big elm trees giving such defence 
against the light and heat. A table had been brought 
out, with refreshments, and huge wicker-chairs were 
placed about it. 1 sat near at hand reading, hearing 
the mocking birds in the orchard, rather than the end- 
less explanations regarding the papers tied with red 
tape, which the lawyer now and then unbound. I 
looked up at him at intervals, for I had a certain ad- 
miration for him, and he always returned my glance . 
with a smile of quiet dignity, which gave me an indefin- 
able sense of pleasure and importance. He was a 
man of large figure, with a full round head a deep- 
tho lighted brow, wrinkled, wise, and wary. 

He leaned forward as my mother spoke, with a sort 
of touching courtesy, which I knew was not lost upon 
her, but her beautiful face flushed not so much as the 
words came a little hurried from her tongue. 

“ My dear madam,” he said, “ this will be a stupen- 
dous work, and many a small fortune will be swallowed 
before its completion, and many years must elapse be- 


THE MYSTERIOUS BARGAIN. 


77 


fore any dividends can be declared to the stockholders 
who survive the long drain upon their resources. And 
however much Captain Schanck may wish to honor his 
brother-in-law, you can perceive that those' who put 
twenty or thirty thousand dollars in the pool, and who 
continue to increase it, will scarcely be content to have 
him as a director unless he also increases his subscrip- 
tions. And Captain Schanck must yield to their pres- 
sure, or you must put in several times the original 
amount or jeopardize the investment.” 

Then rising with deliberation, he continued, “ I am 
sorry to be obliged to leave you, before fully discussing 
this matter but I must be in court in half an hour.” 

A servant announces a call from Miss Jude, and my 
mother went into the parlor leaving me alone with my 
book. 

There was a*sound of voices in the garden, and look- 
ing up, I saw my father with my ' grim uncle coming 
slowly down the long avenues of box : wood, stopping 
anon to discuss some point, but at last approaching the 
piazza where I sat. 

“Before Gad ! ” came the grating voice of the latter, 
“ if there isn’t that old Harfleur pear-tree loaded with 
young fruit at last — ft promises a bounteous harvest. 
Let me see, that was planted by Frances Beaumont, as 
far back as 1780, and though it has flowered some- 
times, it never fruited before ! It reminds me of you, 
David, I’m foresworn, if it doesn’t ! I have always said 
you had the elements of a great financier in you, and 
you have flowerd into some fine projects, but you never 
bore fruit — and neither did this until an exceptionally 
generous season arrived — ” 

“ And where is my generous season ? ” tremulously 
queried my poor flattered father, casting his eyes 
down. 


78 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


“Pooh! pooh!” blustered the banker, “you well' 
know that as director of the Sloane and Gorham 
Canal you will speedily achieve reputation and for- 
tune.” 

And now, having come quite up to the piazza, he 
chose to ignore my presence while he glanced suspi- 
ciously at the chairs, and the table, with some strips of 
red tape lying curled upon it. 

“ Humph ! ” he snarled, “ I smell something here, more 
than the snuff on his Honor’s small clothes. To be 
brief, Brief has been here with his brief, your cause has 
been urged and Judgment given against you. You’ll 
not fruit this year. Oh, to be a husband and yet not 
head of the house ! ” 

“ Why, what could I do, Jesse ? You know I always 
failed — •” 

“ Stop your whining ! To think that our enemy sat 
in that cursed chair within the hour and prejudiced our 
cause ! I wish he sat there now, in the spirit, and 
smelled the sulphur of the deep damnation that I wish 
him.” 

And at this the huge chair began to crack, as if the 
Judge, indeed, sat down in it again. It was the sound 
of relaxing fibres, for the great weight of the lawyer 
had kept the osiers on the stretch, but my uncle started 
aside if a ghost had come haunting into the morning, and 
for a moment a look of terror went in and out of him. 
And, as if I had been the wizard that called up the 
spirit which tormented him, he gave me a venomous 
glance and swept the book from my hand. It was a 
copy of Byron’s Sardanapalus. He opened his rude 
lips to speak, but checked his tongue, while a changed 
expression flitted into his eyes, for two thoughts 
came crowding into his mind that "instant, as two 
demons jostle through the gates of hell together. 


THE MYSTERIOUS BARGAIN. 


79 


He made me a fantastic bow, at which I laughed un- 
easily. 

“ Come away ! ” he cried to my father, “ for b}^ heaven, 
I have been burned Gy an inspiration ! You shall 
be director, after all. You have but to make that boy 
a mimic Sardanapalus, and so luxurious that he must 
needs buy a certain corner of the world of me, if my 
own heir fail to claim it ! ” 

He took his companion by the hand, gesturing with 
the other, a fiendish glow in his eyes. He drew him 
further away, his voice coming hoarse and confused to 
my ears. I gazed after him with a certain sense of 
fascination, wondering to see my father shaking his 
head, even putting his hands to his ears when some ve- 
hement storm of entreaty broke upon him, or shading 
his eyes as if the glare of fortune proved too strong. 
He would wander aimlessly apart, feebly protesting, it 
would seem, but he could not escape the tempter, who 
would be ever and anon closing in on him, and so they 
came near me as they circled, and I heard their voices 
'once more. My father was holding Ins head downward, 
and without elation, and scarcely with understanding, 
I thought, was listening to the banker's words. 

“ The matter is altogether in my hands. I will give 
you the certificate now. And*, by Gad, you had as well 
take the premium too, for the stock will be worth a 
hundred and ten in a twelfth-month ! ” 

And he thrust a roll of banknotes into my father’s 
hand, as he took a chair and leaned over the table 
to write. He tied the parchment with a slip of the 
red tape he found there. 

“ Perhaps it will act like one of Perkin’s tractors,” 
he sneered, “and give an electric light to the whole 
business. I like the idea of Briefs red tape binding 
your document ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” 


80 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


And however obscure the pleasantry was to me, my 
poor father winced, and turned aside. 

“ Won’t you come into the house, Jesse ?” he mur- 
mured. 

“ What for ? ” returned the other, leaning his head 
quizzically, and listening to the voice of Miss Jude, 
“Have you any designs upon my brain that you would 
have it lacquered over with the varnish of that tongue ? ” 
And then going quite up to my father he gave a cold 
hiss in his ear, “I am one of those fools who pay their 
debts in advance — see to it that I am not cheated ! ” 
and with that he gave a meaning glance, and strode 
abruptly away. 

My father sank back on a bench under the trees, and 
with a vacant air gazed straight before him for several 
minutes, shadows of losses and future reckoning al- 
ready glooming in on him, and the money not yet five 
minutes in hand. Then he took out the roll of bills 
and slowly counted them, and recounted them, before 
returning them to his pocket. Somehow they did not 
seem to give him* a comfortable feeling, and I heard 
him sigh deeply several times. 

As for myself, I was cruelly tortured with the feel- 
ing, rather than the thought, that a bargain had been 
made over my head, and*that unconsciously I had been 
the witness of the transfer. .1 stole away with my book, 
and entered the parlor, longing for the companionship 
of my mother. I had for the moment forgotten her 
visitor, but Miss Jude started up, dropping her eye- 
glasses, and caught at me frantically* 

“ My dear little namesake ! ” she cried, entliusiastic- 
ally, kissing me upon my ear in her excitement. “ How 
tall you are growing ! and how sober, too ! There 
should be frolics in the blood, and gaiety like a trum- 
pet at the lips at your age ! What are you reading, 


THE MYSTERIOUS BARGAIN. 


81 


laws or sermons ? ” And she swept the book from my 
hand, while she clutched wildly about her person for 
her glasses. She seized the thin gold chain which held 
them, and in a moment had adjusted them. 

“ Mercy ! ” she screamed, laughing hysterically, “if 
the child isn’t reading Byron ! Really, there is no in- 
fancy any longer, in this world ! My dear Mrs. Ruland, 
you should have a private tutor for him. He needs a 
constant Mentor. The sun you bask in shines on him 
through glass, and he shoots up in a hot-bed of poets. 
But, as I was saying before Jude came in, I met the 
prettiest man of late, a foreign gentleman who could 
talk like a book, and looked like a fashion-plate — he 
had made the grand tour. * For the life of me I cannot 
remember his name ! He was a sharp, inquisitive limb. 
A lawyer, I take it — he was so interested in other peo- 
ples affairs ! 4 This Tom,’ he said — and where he should 
have heard of him, I don’t know. There had been noth- 
ing said about him to my knowledge — 4 This Tom,’ he 
said, as soon as the other had gone, as though he had 
feared to speak before him, 4 This Tom, you tell me, is 
a strange fellow, always coming and going, quartering 
himself without license, disappearing without leave — 
upon my soul, Mr. Ruland is an easy proprietor ! Does 
he strike you as the agent of someone ? Does he keep 
his wits masked, think you, for a purpose ? Is he con- 
stant to any one idea except his care and oversight of 
little J ude ? Does he have a visitor ever— a portly, 
handsome, kindly gentleman ! Was he ever seen with 
him late at night, by anyone ? He’s a man of the 
world, graceful, at ease, very striking. No ? By Saint 
Laurient ! ’ ” and at this I recognized the gentleman, 
and crept up to Miss Jude, my eyes blazing large, and 
my heart beating roundly. My mother was on her feet; 
in an instant with her arms about me. 

6 


82 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


“Excuse me!” she murmured, with just a little 
sting in her words, which seemed to penetrate and en- 
lighten Miss Jude. 

“ Upon my word,” she exclaimed, starting forward, 
“ it is well nigh noon ! if I don’t want to be kissed 
black by the sun — he’s a fiery wooer — I had better be 
going. Get a tutor for the lad — he’s all fancy. And 
come and see me soon — I’ve a new gown — there’s 
twenty ribbons on it, with a jewel at the belt, and the 
sleeves cut so — I only wish I had your arms, and you 
had my gown ! Good morning ! ” 


CHAPTER IX. 

> ' 

THE ACTORS DEBATE IN THE GREEN ROOM. 

When I met my father an hour or two later, I was 
struck with the difference in his manner toward me. 
It was no longer passive or constrained, but full of re- 
spect, >as if he addressed a very high or grave person. 
And to my sorrow, for I was ever a dutiful child, and 
longed for love, he ever after continued to treat me 
thus, erecting a barrier of ceremony which was never 
surmounted. At the table he politely insisted that I 
must be put under the tuition of better masters than I 
had heretofore had, and he dilated in a disjointed, nerv- 
ous way about the necessity X)f giving me a liberal edu- 
cation graced with fashionable accomplishments, and 
how much better it would be if I had all this at once, 
until my mother gave him a calm, wondering glance 
that made him flutter away from his theme in a med- 
ley of small talk, as if he feared she might discover 
something amiss. 

That night as I tossed in my uneasy bed, hearing 


THE ACTORS DEBATE Itf THE GREEK ROOM. 83 

the sea ’plaining and the wind whispering in the massy 
elms, my mind was full of forebodings, and whether 
you can believe it or not, of one so young, I felt it 
would be no desperate matter if I should arise and throw 
myself into that weltering tide and be seen no more. 
To be a ghost, linked to the vagrancy of the wind, and 
blown along under a hedge of roses, seemed not so sad 
as to be among the living and not of them. I heard 
the great clock in the hall tolling the hours until two 
in the morning, when a strong desire seized me to go to 
my father’s room and take that roll of money and keep- 
ing it about my person to strive, in, imitation of Tom, 
by casting my features in the mould of my avaricious 
uncle, and holding on to his late property, if I might 
not bejible to divine something of the secret that was 
closing me in. 1 slipped out of my bed and gliding into 
his room, I was startled to find it unoccupied. The 
moon shining seriously in at the west windows showed 
the disordered condition of his bed, and told me he had 
slept illy, if at all. A sort of panic whispered me that 
something mysterious was passing, when one so regu- 
lar in habit should thus be absent from his chamber in 
the small hours, and I looked fearfully around. His 
watch was ticking on the mantlepiece and I went to it, 
as to a companion in my loneliness. I put out my hand, 
and touched the full wallet lying beside the time-piece. 
I took it and hurried to my apartment. 

I placed it under my head, I hardened my features, 
icing them with a sneer, and incredible as it may 
seem, I had not remained in that position five min- 
utes, before I felt myself looking through the walls 
into my father’s library. The banker and my father 
were just entering the door, the latter bringing the 
lantern which had hung in the hall. Both had their 
hats on, as if they had just come in/rom the avenue, 


84 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


and the banker looked cool and angered, while my 
father betrayed a miserable and anxious face. 

“ To think that you should believe yourself tortured 
with a conscience,” began the former, as he threw him- 
self into a chair, “this comes from sleeping in the moon 
— you should close your windows after this ! ” 

“ But I cannot keep the money, Jesse, and you must 
release me from the bargain ! ” 

“ Will that make me forget what you have told me ? 
The secret’s out, and you have mine ; the money, in 
this case, is but the seal the notary puts on the mort- 
gage. You can tear it off or you can leave it, but we 
have got each other as fast as if the fiend plucked us 
together.” 

My father groaned, and the other stamped his foot, 
and muttered some malediction. 

“ I couldn’t sleep,” began my father again, clasping 
the ends of his fingers into each other and wringing 
them sorely, “ her eyes were before me constantly with 

that shocked and sorrowful expression ” 

“ Good Gad ! ” burst in my uncle, “ have we a poet 
here ! To think of a woman’s eyes keeping you awake 
at your time of life — and your wife’s, too ! Your sis- 
ter never ogled me that way! ” 

“ And when 1 heard you walking about the grounds,” 
continued my father humbly. The banker interrupted 
him imperiously : 

“ Tou have often said you wanted to make a fortune 
that you might indemnify your wife’s losses — weak pro- 
ject to get back affection ! but listen to me. Bring me 
that money to-morrow, and I’ll invest it in cotton and 
put the proceeds in mahogany, and when it is tripled, 
I’ll buy furs with it in Canada, and tripled again I’ll send 
it in ginsing to China, and quadrupled there it will 
come back in silks— and ever we’ll keep the shuttle- 


THE ACTORS DEBATE IK THE GREEK ROOM. 85 

cock flying. Your dwarf shall return a giant, and 
your giant shall go, and come back a gene, with the 
keys of all men’s vaults at his girdle. It has been done 
— we’ll do it again.” 

My father, with outstretched hands, stood eagerly 
looking before him. 

“ And if we neglected the. lad’s interest, there are 
others who would use him for sordid motives,” con- 
tinued the banker, in a wily tone, and here his voice 
fell so low, that my father stole up to him and they fell 
to whispering as if they must know that I had drawn 
them near me with a strong enchantment. 

“ Put great ideas in hjs brain,” burst out the usurer, 
“ but do it subtlely. He must have no hint before the 
hour is ripe. We’ll make a prince of him maybe — but 
leave that to me ! I may change my plans yet — you 
know in my youth I had a thousand schemes, and I 
never settled down to this plain plodding after fortune 
till I was near forty.” 

“ I feel sorry for the boy,” murmured the reluctant 
one who had evidently been won to the other’s schemes. 

“ Sorry ! ” cried the first, tuning his voice with cun- 
ning, ‘‘Sorry for what?, Sorry that he may be taken 
out of this dismal country life, and at a turn of for- 
tune’s wheel mounted' into a high and honored place of 
wealth and glory ? Why, what has he here, but a 
narrow horizon, dull companions, restricted ambitions : 
in short, a mimicry of life and scarcely a hint of the 
vaster designs that engage men and make them tower 
in spirit like the giants that waged war on heaven. 
Bah ! hear how the eternal swash of the sea comes in 
at every pause ! Who would spend his life on this 
little spot of earth, where the sun, I think, looks no 
bigger than one of my brass buttons, and the bay like 
a goose-pond, and the people automatons that have 


86 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


been wound up to talk of their spavined horses, vulgar 
drinking parties, their farthing gains, the tailoring of 
their scant rags, and the tillage of their scrimp acres ! 
Where thought never rises above the gossip's quail 
flight, and ambition is staggered with a post-office ! 
And where, when all’s over, souls do not whiz toward 
heaven like an arrow fi;om a good cross-bow, Jmt clry 
and withered like last year’s leaves, blow along the 
ground and rot under the hedge ? And yet you’re 
sorry ! 

“ I’ll not paint the contrast which you know so well. 
Nor again flare a torch into that darkest hour before 
day, wherein you might see oqr own state and magnifi- 
cence advancing. But I bid you hold in these maudlin 
sympathies, which, like poor relations eat up the sub- 
stance of your better fortunes. I never yet saw a man 
with a heart prone to grieve at every other man’s sor- 
rows, or to laugh in unison to another’s mirth, who had 
the trick of sentiment, but that he spread himself too 
universally on the race to have, any depth for his own 
affairs. He became veneering when he should have 
been stout oak fibre through and through, to stand the 
dint of fortune’s blows ! ” And then sleep came again, 
like a rising vapor, the light faded, the house was swal- 
lowed up in a cloud, and a little While afterward, when 
I awoke, I heard the first caroling of the robins and 
knew the day was nigh. I hurried to replace the 
wallet in my father’s room and found him sleeping 
there. Returning, I fell into a deep slumber, the sun- 
shine making golden bars on my coverlet when I 
awoke. 

Had I, or had I not, had a vision ? Was it a dream 
born of my disordered fancies ? or had I got the entree 
to fate, by some clever wizard luck, and heard the 
actors debating in the green room ? It might be either, 


THE ACTORS DEBATE IN THE GREEN ROOM. 87 


but too often had I seen the wierd trances of kind 
sorrowful Tom, not to believe that there was some 
occult philosophy underlying the eternal principles of 
things. 

But what then, could be the meaning of this talk of 
princes ? The Republican teaching I had absorbed of 
the equality of all men before the law, was so much at 
variance with the drift of the sqatches of conversation 
I had caught that I was fairly puzzled. I put the 
thought on and off, through many months, as one does 
his apparel. Sometimes tricked out with the imagina- 
tion, uplifted, assuming, anon thrusting it from me, un- 
crowned, melancholy, and severe. 

The mutations of life* I found from my reading,— 
and I was now doing a great deal of it, and devouring 
my mother’s library with indiscriminate voracity — the 
mutations of life, I found, were not confined to little 
tragedies in quiet neighborhoods, where every’ house 
has some bitter memory hid under the sable hangings 
that curtain it from curious eyes — diminuendos of the 
great storms, but, deep, and piercing, and woeful 
enough to them ! And yet, but thorn pricks and 
poignard stabs by malicious elves, to the prodigious 
cymeter sweeps that mow a nation ! but spume and 
rack of local storm to the tremendous revolutions that 
topple thrones, and crumble states, and herd the vile to 
cruelty, and plunder of the flying great. 

Indeed, I found the muse of history was so absorbed 
in her reflections on the unrelenting fortunes of the 
masters of the world, that in whole tomes her iron pen 
had shed no drops over the accursed destinies of the 
lowly and enslaved. Before her eyes, and of him who 
read, arose the wraiths of blinded kings who drew their 
conqueror’s car of triumph, and who, himself, at a turn 
of the wheel, to-morrow \mthed in chains. Of wan- 


88 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


dering heirs, of queens at poisoned banquets, of heroes 
slaughtered in their sleep, tyrants quaking in their 
mail, beauty baiting the snare that strangles her own 
throat, lords temporal and lords spiritual whose necks 
had felt the savage spurning of the axe. 

And at that day, all men’s minds were full of the 
blood-reeking marvels of the French revolution, where 
tigerish wrath of outraged mobs had scattered the aris- 
tocracy of their country, like leaves on the four winds, 
to the end of the earth. What more likely then, that 
one of these fugitive lords should have fixed his tem- 
porary abode in this free land ? But if he had, what 
then? How was I intimately concerned? Was the 
afflicted nobleman in distress, and his adherents hangers 
on, what not, plotting against him ? Was it intended 
that I should figure in their machinations ? I ? How 
the hint, at first the faintest surmise, then becoming 
probable as it lost its ghostliness, and took on the flesh 
of burning thought — grew and assumed a vast im- 
portance. It stalked savagely into all my musings, 
and was an hourly disturbance. Could it be pos- 
sible that my father had consented to overtures 
which involved aught of ignominy? If he had dis- 
credited his own honor, did he suppose I would wil- 
lingly barter mine ? 

But no, it was all a mistake. I was doing him gross 
injustice— and for this I had my hours of remorse. Oh, 
for Tom ! that I might confide in him and absorb his 
counsel. I felt that I could not go to my mother, for 
though I was her child, could I with ever so delicate a 
touch of speech say that, that might criminate my 
father ! And if it was shown that I was altogether 
wrong, how monstrous to her would seem my heart that 
could cherish an idea like this. 

And I am sure I shoulcl have eventually lost this 


THE TUTOR. 


80 


sinister impression, had it not been for the absurd re- 
spect shown me by my father, and the conferences 
which so frequently recurred between him and my 
Uncle Jesse. At intervals during the next two or 
three years, I would sometimes come upon them un- 
expectedly, and would hear my name mentioned and 
note the ominous pause until I had passed out of ear- 
shot. Whatever it was, I was convinced my mother 
was not only not in their counsels, but thwarted them, 
and as I did not see the shrewd foreigner again, I grad- 
ually grew to have a confused opinion upon the subject, 
and as it became more hazy and indistinct, it finally 
ceased to interest me altogether. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE TUTOR. 

But, oh, what a pleasant surprise awaited me in the 
character of the tutor who was at length provided me ! 
Mr. Granville was like a jest-book bound in serious 
sheep ; for under a countenance severe and dignified 
he hid the most delightful humors. A fine satire played 
upon all things he said, as the invisible wind sharpens 
the peaks of the sea. In him I first discovered that all 
of us wear masks, for being so young and withal dis- 
creet, he thought there could be no harm in letting me 
go in and out behind his scenes as it were, and besides 
he loved to note the effect of his acting on one .so art- 
less. 

He was rather tall, lithe and graceful, with a slightly 
aquiline nose, and with eyes covertly bold and daring. 
One singular property he had, of impressing himself 
upon others, like a chemical force that attracts, or dis- 


90 


PHANTOM HAYS. 


turbs the combination of all the bodies lying near it. 
And he used to boast to me that he could always get 
at the clue to the character of any one with whom he 
was thrown in contact. “I have but one life to live,” 
he said, and I choose not to spend it shut within my- 
self, like one of those pretty German princes, rusting 
in the meagre bounds of his state, and fenced by cere- 
monies from the larger life without. I choose rather to 
consider myself an autocrat of souls and found my 
empire in men*s thoughts, coming and going invisibly, 
but possessing myself of the secret ‘forces of mind. 
That men may not know me as their emperor, will be 
none the less pleasing to me, for I consider those fabled 
tragedy queens, the fates, find a more supreme enjoy- 
ment in the secret influences they shed in scornful 
breasts, and valiant souls, than they do in the homage 
of those who bend before them and slavishly acknowl- 
edge their sway.” And he had a homely saying that, 
“ Men are fiddles from whom any good player could ex- 
tract the tune he pleased.” 

At first my mother kept herself informed of my 
progress, and of the methods pursued by my tutor, and 
with delicate arts had us frequently about her, but in 
time she gave me up more and more to Mr. Granville, 
and silently acquiesced in his teaching me music, danc- 
ing, fencing, horsemanship, and a score of polite ac- 
complishments beyond what he had been engaged to 
perform, so that in the end he came to- have the as- 
cendancy, and though secretly uneasy I became greatly 
attached to him. 

For more than a month after my tutor was installed 
with us we saw nothing of Jesse Schanck, and I won- 
dered why he had so long deserted us, when, I heard 
my father casually remark that he was away in the 
north-west superintending his great canal scheme. But 


THE TUTOR. 


91 


suddenly he reappeared as usual, and I was curious to 
observe upon what terms he would treat Mr. Granville. 
My tutor- was with me in the orchard where we fre- 
quently repaired, in the long afternoons of pleasant 
days, though it was now late in September. Here, 
lounging on rustic seats, like academicians of old we 
would continue to pursue the learned discourses of the 
morning, or each would fall to reading such of the 
current literature as fell to us in our remoteness at that 
early period. My mother, through her correspondents 
in New York and abroad, was often the recipient of 
the noted books which stirred men’s thoughts in those 
days, and this afternoon we had eagerly borne off two 
or three famous volumes to our retreat. While en- 
gaged with their contents we heard voices sounding 
nearer, and looking up I saw my father and my gruff 
uncle approaching us. 

“ This is Mr. Granville, the tutor,” said my father, in 
an almost conciliatory tone ; and then with a touch of 
stateliness he continued, “ I should like to make you 
acquainted, Mr. Granville, with my brother-in-law, Mr. 
Schanck.” 

The two men looked straight at each other, with a 
momentary pause, before they bowed, and I imagined a 
tremor went through them as though they had en- 
dured, like gladiators, the shock of personal contest. 
The elder drew back, with an insolent expression, and 
there was something malignant, I fancied, . lurking 
within him that, now and then looked out, biting its 
way through a covert smile, whenever he looked on 
Granville, but he addressed himslf to me. 

“ Well, is it poetry, or romance, this time ? ” and 
then turning to my tutor he continued : 

“Have you found anything in him, Granville? 
Anything besides this tip-toe ecstasy that follows the 


92 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


reading of every new book ? Books act on some fel- 
lows like electric machines — make them quiver and 
dance, but the effect is soon over. In others they 
light a sudden inspiration that fades out before the 
wick blackens. Some you can water-log with learn- 
ing: the more they take in the further they sink out of 
sight.” 

“ You have not exhausted the roll, yet ! ” exclaimed 
Mr. Granville. “ There are men who have put for- 
tunes' into wit, as prudent merchants in the East, when 
they must travel, convert a whole bazar into a 
diamond.” 

“ Then you have certainly paid for something that 
must needs keep your jaw wagging, for no one will know 
you have got it unless you wear it on your tongue. 
Your merchant can re-convert his diamond into a 
bazar, but can your wit coin itself into fortunes again ? 
That’s the true test ! Bah ! ” 

Without any exhibition of heat at the brusqueness 
of his opponent, and with an easy laugh, my tutor re- 
plied : 

“ Learning is a greater resource than the treasury, it 
could help a man to build the world again if all the 
gold was sunk into the sea.” 

“I don’t want to hear argument,” interrupted the 
fierce old man. “I would have thrust Socrates him- 
self, head first to the wall, rather than have stood his 
badgering. The men who make the world are living 
forces, whom the rough time has fashioned from the 
rock — they have never battened on dead men’s 
thoughts. Your learning it built up of the fragments 
of exploded theories, to be itself torn down and 
moulded anew to-morrow. Your savants mount up- 
ward only as they tread each other under. How many 
religions were sacrificed to make the one passing? 


THE TUTOR. 


93 


Have the law-makers ever ceased debating the best 
method of government? The earth rolls over and 
over, and strains round the cycle -of a year, but ever 
comes back again to the starting, and by Gad, there’s 
not a creature on it but partakes of this blind momen- 
tum, in brain and tissue waxing and waning, striving 
and getting no whither ! ” 

And with this he plucked my father by the arm, and 
savagely strode away. 

“ I hope you will not let him offend you,” I said, as 
Mr. Granville continued to stand and look after the 
banker. 

He did not reply for a moment, but put his hand up 
and chafed his brow reflectively, and regarded me ab- 
sently, a puzzled expression deepening in his face. 
“ Are you offended ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, no, fascinated, rather! I think I could endure 
a blow of his club now and then, if I could walk with 
Hercules.” 

We sauntered toward the house. In a pavilion near 
at hand we came upon Dr. Murray, Prof. Synta of the 
Worcester College, and my uncle and father, engaged 
in a light collation which had been set them, while 
they were discussing the finances of the great canal. 
My uncle seemed disturbed and regarded us with a 
sinister expression, and almost before we had finished 
greeting the Professor and the physician, he asked with 
a most malignant, mocking spirit, what book it was that 
I had beep, reading under the trees. I mentioned, not 
without some misgiving, the name of a new poet, Keats, 
and repeated some of his verses, which Dr. Murray pro- 
nounced to be exquisite. At this, my fierce relative 
burst into an outrageous, savage laugh, declaring men 
to be the most perverse beasts in the world. “ Why ” 
sneered he, “ I do believe men walk upright only, be- 


94 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


cause their heads are lighter than their heels. Men’s 
minds are so extravagant that, no one keeps rightly to 
his condition, but inflated thought soars with him be- 
yond the realms of the real and the probable and sets 
him on a pinnacle, like a feather, from whence he is 
blown again at the change of the wind, and so he passes 
through every phase of prosperity and despair between 
the pulling on of his boots in the morning and the pull- 
ing of them off in the night ; his feet meanwhile having 
been doggedly pressing the same acre all day.” 

“Well, that’s a longer sentence than Judge Brief 
gave the pirates!” broke in the stately Dr. Murray, 
“ but not nearly so intelligible.” 

My father was greatly outraged, and the banker 
glared ominously. But after a moment his censorious, 
rasping tongue, began again; being in no wise softened 
by the luscious Harfleur pears of which he largely par- 
took between whiles. 

“ The earliest men thought their own skins sufficient 
fence against the cold, then came furs, and now cloth 
and silk, and beyond these, rings, and chains, and 
leathers, and perfumery. Spectacles are worn oVer 
good eyes, wugs over real hair, rouge over the health of 
a summer cheek. Homely fare sets a man to talking 
of epicurean feasts ; water is no such drink as wine. 
Air must be breathed clandestinely through tobacco 
smoke. In neighborhood gatherings, Tom and Dick, 
Moll and Nancy are chatted to and of, no more, but 
each listens with bated breath while the absent grandees 
are discussed, being known to none, and never to be 
known of by any. A dull fellow must have a spirited 
horse. Labor seeks for inventions that he may have 
leisure for idleness and corruption. We are getting to 
have more holidays than can be found in the Romish 
calendar of saints.” 


THE TUTOR. 


95 


“ You have begun so far off, I fear you will be out 
of breath by the time you reach, the book ! ” com- 
miserated Dr. Murray. 

My father shifted his seat uneasily, while Mr. Gran- 
ville with the faintest smile looked curiously on. This 
smile must have stung the intolerant critic, for his face 
grew blacker as he continued. 

“ Historians write to small audiences, while millions 
weep over fictitious heroes in crowded theatres. A 
great man is only known by the gap he leaves when 
dead. Poets have found sorrow to be a trick and serve 
it up as a refreshment. They look upon human woes 
much after the fashion of painters scanning their 
models, and take the choicest pangs and expressions of 
intolerable grief, and match them here and there to 
make a tragedy. Like busy, idle gossips, they tattle 
the secrets of their own hearts, tearing their wounds 
that others may hear their groans. They rear up a 
diseased sentiment like a hot-house plant, until it 
flowers in song and is duly admired by the assembly. 
Of nothing do they die so soon as of a dearth of 
readers : that, is a famine that blasts them like fever 
and sirocco.” 

And having thus delivered himself, my father nodding 
gravely all the while without raising his head, he 
cackled sharply like the hen-vulture must, when she is 
delivered of another black germ under the eaves of 
night; and helping himself largely to the choicest 
fruity in contempt of ceremony he arose, and without 
so much as an adieu he turned his back on us and 
strode away. 

“ Wonderful man !” murmured my tutor, under his 
breath. “ He intoxicates me like a rough vintage.” 

And during the, evening he asked me a hundred 
questions about my uncle, and wondered what there 


96 


PHANTOM HAAS. 


was in himself that should have irritated his sardonic 
humor. Whatever it was he saw many manifestations 
of it thereafter, and doubtless suffered under it, though 
he did not always refrain from offering the cold blade 
of his wit to the assault. 

Hearing Mr. Creep at dinner, on one occasion — for 
we had the staid and solid people of the little city a;t 
intervals, about us, coming and going, there being 
qualities of attraction in my mother which held her old 
friends constant, in spite of the consuming care which 
used her sweet gentility as a mask hearing Mr. 
Creep utter a lamentation that, “In, the good time 
gone men were content to take life as it came, and even 
to make of poverty a sort of homely friend, and looked 
upon obscurity as a blessing in disguise, while in these 
days they connive for riches and use education as an 
art to capture honor, till all natural capacity is 
lacquered over and lost to sight — ” You should have 
seen the rare smile of smypathy my tutor bestowed 
upon him ! 

“ Ah, sir,” he murmured, sipping and toying with 
his wine, “ those good old days have gone away, the 
more’s the pity. The few sterling men — ” and here he 
bowed warmly toward the old merchant — “the few 
sterling men they have left behind them, seem like 
aliens in a jostling land, superior, but without a country. 
If we could go back, how gladly would we live as in 
the golden age, but the march of events is onward, and 
we must follow, or be treated as malingerers, or perish 
in the desert. But,” turning toward Miss Jude, “ but 
this talk of old times may not be agreeable to ladies 
who adorn the present.” 

“Oh, I assure you,” simpered Miss Jude, who early 
in the evening had taken off her glasses surreptitiously, 
for fear they might betrav her years, and who now 


THE TUTOR. 


97 


ogled at random, twinkling her eyes as though her 
smile was a sprite twirling his lantern. “ Oh, I assure 
you I do not mind it. In fact I dote upon it. It is 
frequently alluded to in the best society. Old times 
seem like the chest out of which we bring our pedi- 
grees, our china, our silver, our laces.” 

“ More like the chest in which we keep the skeleton 
of the house,” growled my gruff uncle. 

“ Many an one would be glad to acknowledge the 
skeleton,” said Mr. Creep, with some dignity, “ it would 
imply ancestry.” 

“As if the ass wasn’t present at the creation of the 
world ! ” sneered my uncle. 

My father cast an indignant glance at Mr. Creep, 
and then looked appealingly at Mr. Granville to exert 
himself to smooth this difficulty. And exert himself 
he did, inventing a merry story of one Assinius, a 
Roman knight, who having conquered his hereditary 
enemy, desiring that his ancestors should share in his 
triumph, ordered the great tbmb to be opened which 
hoarded their remains, when the head of an ass was 
discovered. Nothing daunted he ever after incorpor- 
ated it in his coat of arms, as typifying the stubbornness 
and inflexibility of purpose which had prevailed after 
thirty generations. 

“You had better put the ears into yours ! ” hissed 
the astounding old man ; at which my mother shot 
him a level glance. 

“I should not object,” calmly returned my tutor, 
“ as every one should hear more than he speaks.” 

And this was only a specimen of the outrageous lan- 
guage I have heard my uncle adress to Mr. Granville, 
on more than one occasion when they were brought in 
contact, as he seemed to become in time thoroughly 
envenomed against him, and only a specimen too, of 
7 


98 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the cool‘ rejoinders he received. It might be that my 
uncle’s astute mind perceived in that of my tutor a 
possible rival, and that, as much as he pretended to 
despise it, he had no intention of sharing the popular 
esteem and applause. And he had some reason, for 
Mr. Granville had not been in the town three months 
before he was everywhere courted like the rising son 
of some established old family, and in time he furnished 
the ideas in politics, helped lovers in their romantic 
adventures, and had schemes enough to have diverted 
the commerce from a dozen other ports to Worcester, 
until half the merchants were 'running after him, and 
he had it in his power to have formed syndicates which 
would have enriched him like a prince. But his 
schemes came thick upon him like flaws from opulent 
headlands which distract the rudderless ship and beat 
her about at random. 

However my uncle may have despised him, Mr. 
Granville, I knew, did not share the feeling on his part. 
He lauded, instead, the* financial acumen of the 
banker, and I fancied, secretly admired him, willing to 
endure any rebuff, as one takes it from hard fortune, if 
he might only profit by the blow. As, for instance, 
upon some hint of a ship carrying great treasure hav- 
ing been lost upon a time in the harbor, he was urging 
the search by divers for the abandoned gold, and- the 
merchants seemed much impressed ; to our surprise, for 
none had. perceived him, Jesse Schanck stood forth, 
and with rugged invective denounced the project as 
futile and absurd. “ Look beyond your noses,” he 
cried, “ for fortune : she’s no sneak ! A merchant has 
the whole world for his province. I predict that the 
man who buys cotton at twelve cents to-day, will double 
his money in three months. I guarantee two dollars 
for every dollar that is put in my hands. Who takes ! ” 


THE TUTOR. 


99 


There arose such a wild stir that the little city hummed 
like a hive. In less than thirty days cotton had ad- 
vanced to thirty eight cents, and the banker was deal- 
ing out fortunes, while his own, it was said, had been 
increased a quarter of a million. 

Walking out with my tutor at this time, when my 
uncle’s reputation was peculiarly high, we found his 
praise fomenting spicily on all men’s tongues, while the 
grim banker strode past, an uncouth, savage man, 
whose insolent eyes spurned left and right the fulsome 
and the cringing, as he held his way. When he had 
casually remarked Mr. Granville in the press about 
him, he raised a yellow, hooked finger, bitterly gibing : 
“ This is the man who would have had you empty your 
pockets in the mire ! ” The crowd laughed sardonically 
as in duty bound, while Mr. Granville gazed after his 
satirist with an unmoved countenance. 

“Yon eccentric giant,” said he, when we had turned 
aside, “ for truly I consider him among the colossi in 
his towering schemes, the amplitude of his vision, the 
complexity of his resources, the combinations with 
which he conquers fortunes — he can well afford to hold 
the popular ovation cheap, for the burst comes ill-timed : 
he has a higher climax.” 

“ To what do you refer ? ” 

«I have but a dim presentiment, I cannot explain. 
He has some hidden motive, some exalted ambition 
which the fates sourly withhold. The man rasps hard 
against custom and usage, but he is going up against 
the tide. He, too, is gnawed upon, but by iron fangs. 
We shall hear tremendous revelations before he dies.” 

“There have been questionable ones already.” 

He turned upon me fiercely, “ I do not feel the same 
horror of the man that others do, nor the inexpressible 
contempt for his base practices. I recognize a potent 


100 


’PHANTOM DAYS. 


genius that for want of its proper balance — and this 
balance not within, but outside of itself, — has gone 
distraught, just as occur those wandering baleful 
planets, which no constraining and appealing orbits 
bind to a fixed sphere and make sublime and peaceful 
stars of the firmament. Had he a child, for instance, 
he must have warmed and become human. How would 
he have schemed for such an one, culling honors like 
roses, peopling his gaunt halls with guests and setting 
music rippling from the faucet flute to welcome home 
his heir from colleges or courts, himself a lordly pres- 
ence. But, instead, his hearth is desolate. He sows 
and there is none to reap for.” And a strange quaver 
came into his throat. I looked up, and found the 
whole man for an instant changed. 

“Do you know,” I cried, gazing wistfully into his 
face, “ that I feel that I have seen yon before, or have 
some singular recollection of you, but I can not recall 
the time or place ! ” 

“Mere inheritance of a memory,” he smiled back, 
“ I have felt the same about this town and its people. 
Old Jesse Schanck, now, I could have sworn on no 
better grounds that, I have known him intimately. 
But it is manifestly impossible that I should ever 
have met him before, or have ever been in Worcester, 
my life having been spent in other scenes and far from 
here.” — 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE FAMOUS VIOLIN. 

I FOUND in no long time that Mr. Granville’s thor- 
ough manner wrought an important change in my men- 
tal habits, and I progressed surprisingly for one' who 


THE FAMOUS VIOLIN. 


101 


had dreamed so late. It was his study to get truth 
clean of words that encrust it, until as unencumbered 
as a definition it sunk into the mind of its own weight. 

His education embraced so many varied features of 
intellectual gains, that, I was often bewildered and as- 
tonished, and I felt it must have been accomplished 
with exceeding pains at famous schools. And as our 
intimacy proceeded I found he had been a noted trav- 
eler, seeking information at many centers, studying 
both at home and abroad, and having been an inmate 
of English, French, and German universities. His 
quick and retentive mind ‘had grasped the salient 
features, the stirring energies and the tendencies of 
great populations. And to hear him discourse on these, 
unrolled before me a panorama of crowded cities, armies 
at bay, senates evolving the truce of an hour, the pop- 
ular will rising everywhere like a tidal wave which, in 
the end submerges existing institutions, and then sub- 
sides leaving devastation, while all unmindful the 
genius of Commerce sits at his loom, weaving the splen- 
did web of fortune, the ships, swift shuttles, flying back 
and forth. 

If I wondered, he quoted the old maxim, “ Be as- 
tonished at nothing.” If I execrated outrage and 
wrong, he would say, “ One must in a measure, be 
tolerant of evil if he would rise : to be rigidly good is 
to sink of your own weight in the great weltering sea 
of humanity.” 

At first I had heard from him nothing so sinister as 
this, but I could not help remarking the unfortunate 
influence upon him of Jesse Schanck. He would treasure 
up that atrocious old man’s sayings, and declare that 
there was a bitter wisdom in them which acted as a 
tonic upon his mind. But there must have been poi- 
sonous qualities too, for he would become morose, and I 


102 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


could tell that darksome fancies went flitting through 
his brain. He began to have a respect for mere riches 
which, in our earliest acquaintance he had derided. 
His imagination begot in him the liveliest images of 
wealth — plethoric vaults under the king’s treasure- 
house, sparkling Golcondas, sea-caverns strewn with 
bullion from foundered ships. 

“ I never realized the source of the miser’s joy in his 
gold until of late,” he said one day, “ I could under- 
stand the love one might have for rare china, when one 
little vase might be all that was left of the remains of 
a once powerful civilization, but the miser gloating over 
his sumptuous chests, triumphs over the dynasties 
which have bled drop by drop into his hands. He has 
under his spell the genie who could invoke the splen- 
dors of art, the majesty of power,, the sensuous 
charms of beauty. But Jesse Schanck is no miser! I 
wonder for whom he is plotting and gathering — mak- 
ing such daring ventures and receiving such ample re- 
turns — He does not spend it on himself.” 

And then he would canvass his own talents for this 
art of money getting — elaborating baseless schemes 
for the capture of riches, which would set the town 
agog for a week at a time. But before he had put 
them on foot he had tired of them, and many of his 
auditors who at first were startled by his invention, 
at length came to hear him with passive interest if 
not with indifference. His quick observation told him 
this, and he was secretly humiliated, and silenced in 
their presence thereafter. But a few, and strange to 
say, the wealthier of his acquaintances held fast to his 
speculations and waited upon them to mature into 
something tangible, with the perilous faith of the 
spendthrift who invests in lotteries. In the meantime 
his magnificent bon liomme underwent a gradual 


THE FAMOUS VIOLIN. 


108 


eclipse. That part of his nature which partook of 
mysticism, no longer pursued its reveries into divine 
depths, but began to ferret into men’s souls, and to 
pursue their secrets from sordid motives. And yet, 
this degradation of noble faculties was so gradual 
that, months and years passed before he finally yielded 
himself to the tempter, and became shunned of men. 

While this change was yet far off, how well he drew 
me to him by his wit, his fancy, his generosity, and the 
charm of his companionship, but how strangely he 
would startle me with some discord in his nature as 
though he was played upon by both good and evil genii 
at the same moment. 

He felt an almost rude impatience at the contact of a 
vulgar nature, and yet at times he seemed to enjoy the 
cramp discourse, of a rude illiterate mind, and was fond 
of sea-faring men, and would laugh heartily at the 
coarse coquetry of a sailor’s lass. 

“ And yet, I don’t know why I should care for these 
rude folk,” he exclaimed, once, “ for on a long voyage, 
when I was the merest youth, I was given such a blow 
by a drunken tar that I shall carry the remembrance to 
my grave,” and lifting his hair he showed a wide scar 
above his ear. “ I remember,” he continued, “ the fel- 
low approved of the wound, saying it would identify 
me hereafter ! ” 

We were rambling among the docks at the time and 
had stopped to remark a group of emigrants in outre 
garb, when suddenly the sound of music, and the voices 
of a merry group of sailors and women of their class, 
from a neighboring tavern broke in on us. Chattering, 
laughing, reveling about the musician as they came, and 
joined by all the emigrants, they descended into our 
quiet haven. The sailors were Italians, evidently be- 
longing to a vessel flying the flag of Naples, then lying 


104 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


in the harbor. They had been on shore to enjoy a hol- 
iday, and make a last farewell to the comrades of their 
voyage, and had come down to the water to embark, 
but their romping companions would not permit it with- 
out one more dance. They mounted the deck of a 
barge tethered to the adjacent pier and were soon given 
up to the abandon of the polka while all the idlers in 
the neighborhood assembled and began to leer. 

I was about to urge that we should withdraw, when 
something in the tone of the violin attracted him, while 
the playing itself was execrable. 

“ Confound the fellow ! ” he muttered, “ to draw such 
villainy out of an instrument so fine. Sirrah ! ” he 
cried, with a grand air habitual to him when addressing 
his inferior, “ give me hold of that violin.” 

The musician, smiling under his matted locks, and 
bowing obsequiously, handed him the fiddle and the 
bow. He looked it over with a sort of rapture, exam- 
ining and caressing it by turns ; then screwing up the 
strings, he drew the bow across them with a trembling, 
luscious sound which melted its way right to the hearts 
of these susceptible people. They gleamed with pleas- 
ure, bowing and crying mellifluous compliments, throw- 
ing their arms about their partners, swooning into each 
other’s eyes, and circling slowly around. Sparkles of 
sound and amorous airs bewitched them, and drove them 
in a mad celerity. Improvisations enchantingly ren- 
dered, broke up the groups and re-united them in a 
hundred gaieties and extravagances of figures, until 
with a burst of melody they fell apart, dissolving, and 
surrounding him with excited plaudits. ' 

“Where did you get this famous violin?” he de- 
manded, rather than asked of the sailor who approached 
to claim it. 

“ I got it from a ship that went down on the rocks 


THE FAMOUS VrOLIN. 


105 


here, once,” he replied in broken English. “ It was 
said by the servants of Milord who was drowned, that 
his lady played upon it like an angel ! ” 

“ Have you twenty dollars ? ” he cried to me, and 
thrust my money into the owner’s hand, who smiled 
contentedly ‘while Granville tucked the violin under his 
arm. And then almost as if by magic the sailors em- 
barked, the strand was deserted by their country 
women, and we were left alone. But the musician 
still played on in fancy, his face wrought up to a high 
pitch, and his eyes gazing with a haunted expression 
into the air. How often did I see him play upon this 
delicious iustrument after this hour, but ever to the 
scorn of my bitter relative, should he, chance to come 
within the sound. 

Once when he had received a more than usually in- 
solent stare from Jesse Schanck, accompanied with the 
opprobrious epithet of “Fiddle-scraper,” I could not 
forbear taxing him in private with the sang-froid with 
which he received the insults of this satirical old man. 

“ Jude,” said he, after a short reflection, “I can only 
reply to my own disadvantage. Boy as you are, I like 
to have you talk to me as you do this morning. You 
are older than your years, and but for your melancholy, 
a choice spirit. With this corrected, you have a great 
career to run, and I sometimes startle myself reflecting 
upon the widening horizon that opens before you. • And 
it is all th,e more fascinating to me, because you will 
get without effort, what I long for with strenuous pangs 
of the soul. 

“ I think Jesse Schanck, being intensely practical, 
feels intolerant of me because he looks on me as a 
mere theorizer — one, who, like the fox in the fable, has 
a thousand schemes but never a way to escape the 
hounds of bad fortune. He sees me acting the part of 


106 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


a tutor at an age when he was already the owner of 
ships and putting out large ventures. My dillatanteism 
angers him. I don’t wonder. It angers me at times 
till I consume myself like a fever. I have had such co- 
lossal ideas and felt such a certain grip on affairs that, I 
have idled out of pure' wanton security. I have fol- 
lowed to the bent of my fancies up to a certain period, 
and when I felt sure of great achievement I have 
stopped as if I had it already in my grasp. I weary of 
details. In music I have not been far short of acknowl- 
edged mastership. The deep toned quivering nerves 
that lash us to eternity have answered to my touch, 
giving and sending more than tongue can tell. 

“In poetry I have in my inspiration been on the verge 
of lofty designs, rolling on in full melodious measure 
to the isles of the blest, but to have seen the heavens 
opening was enough. 

“ Then necromancy took me like a wandering elfin 
woman, with dusk unhallowed eyes— to have gone with 
her to the eyes of the magician’s cavern, satisfied my 
longing. 

“ These things breed dislike in Jesse Schanck, but I 
do know could he understand me thoroughly, he would 
champion me instead of maligning me. And had I his 
money I would thrust aside the leafy horizon of the 
west and found an ample empire ; harden into reality 
this dream of Watts’ with his ramping engines until I 
had interlaced the earth with iron highways ; develop 
Fulton’s lazy steamboat until I had revolutionized the 
ocean traffic of the world — but to carry out my ideas I 
must have money, no sordid heap, but open treasuries. 
i° get it I cannot stoop to slender beginnings, and 
agonize in the pinched tunic of economy for years. I 
should die raving mad. In the meantime I play that 
accursed violin of mine, indite*a song and set it to the 


THE FAMOUS VIOLHST. 107 

dissolving ecstasy of a tune, and do my penance in the 
scorn of Jesse Schanck.” 

These incongruities of his nature puzzled me, and I 
pored over his traits, as over the pages of a book un- 
bound, whose leaves, scattered and unnumbered, pre- 
sent a mazy problem. For all his growing love for 
riches, and his fierce desire, he was a veritable spend- 
thrift. He became in debt, and was an inveterate 
borrower, and yet I had seen him throw away upon a 
beggar the money that had just been loaned to him. 
Lightly he took his own responsibilities, and lightly he 
looked upon those of others, as if he felt a sort of good 
fellowship extended through the world, which justified 
a man in distributing the property of his neighbor, 
when his own means had become exhausted. 

In the presence of women he became a very charm- 
ing man, as if beauty wrought upon his chivalrous feel- 
ings like an intoxicant, bringing all his fine thoughts to 
the surface, and yet he told me privately that he con- 
sidered most ladies vapid creatures. “ I should not 
wonder though,” he mused, “if I should succumb sud- 
denly to some peerless beauty,' some day, for I am 
readily taken unaware by the higher graces in man or 
woman, and I have a haunting desire for something 
besides mere loveliness of this mortal flesh — something 
spiritual shining through the perfect mould.” 

He seized upon a new acquaintance like an epicure 
upon a dish untried, but unless the nature was deep, 
or contained something tantalizing to his taste, it was 
speedily thrown aside. But wherever his curiosity 
was piqued he would set systematically to work to ex- 
haust the mystery that excited him. My father in a 
sort of ecstasy looked in on my studies now and then, 
fingering the text-books as if they were saint’s relics, 
and contained magic virtues. I began at length to no- 


108 


PHAHTOM DAYS. 


tioe that there was some sort of free masonry existing 
between him and Mr. Granville, on these occasions. 
Significant looks .would pass, and whatever they in- 
dicated, my tutor would become satisfied or morose, 
while my father would carry a wistful face, or shift un- 
easily about the study and go softly out. This caused 
me to observe him at other times, but I could not per- 
ceive anything unusual in his manners. Perhaps he 
was a little more abstrated, and I noticed he avoided 
Mr. Granville’s eyes on all occasions when we were at 
the table, though at other times I found him willing 
enough to hold long conversations with my tutor. If 
I came near them he not seldom broke into one of his 
rhapsodies on the power of learning, and would end by 
saying, “ he hoped I might one day become as great a 
genius as Croesus, and as rich as M£sop,” so strangely 
would he mix his classics. 

To Granville’s credit I must say I never saw the 
ghost of a smile on his face at such a time. If any- 
thing, he was too polite, bending his head as gravely as 
though an oracle had spoken, while my father would 
shrink within himself confusedly, and invariably hurry 
away. If he felt compelled to say anything it would 
be supplementary to my father’s maladroit remark ; but 
to be over polite is in itself a reflection, and whatever 
he said, my father none the less abased himself and 
hurried away. 

That my tutor in some deep recess made gibes and 
mimes, my wounded spirit would persist in saying, 
though outwardly he was so impassible. The cooling 
perturbations of a gentle fear would often possess me. 
The man, I felt, was misplaced in our quiet, gloomy 
home. How could he root his accomplished spirit to 
such a slight employment as held him here ? He had 
his dreams and his ambitions I well knew, from hints 


THE GHOST. 


109 


he had dropped and longings sometimes expressed. His 
tastes were luxurious. The small library he had brought 
with him was of the choicest character, in most exqui- 
site bindings. His dress was faultless. Charming 
statuettes, so seldom seen in that day, and one or two 
rare paintings adorned his room. Three or four kinds 
of musical instruments were scattered about, from 
which he could awaken melodies that rapt the old 
house away like Aladdin’s castle, and carried me 
into fairy-land many and many a time. Poor old Tom, 
who loved the haunting spirits that dwell in music 
more than any other thing that crept about his numb- 
ing .soul ! how he would have stolen along the stairs to 
lie at Mr. Granville’s door, when he discoursed sweet 
strains like these ! I veritably believe that so singular 
was the power of the man, he could have blown sub- 
tile poisons into him and bewitched him at his will. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE GHOST. 

As the months went on I became more and more ab- 
sorbed in my studies, emulous, and excelling the more 
devoted intellects in the college in Worcester, for 
which, I felt I could not too heartily think my brill- 
iant and untiring tutor. At night, when we had com- 
pleted the tasks for the day, it was my delight to sit 
conversing with him for an hour, while he conveyed to 
me those wonderful impressions he had received from 
experience, of the world of men in which he had so 
long mingled. He would rapidly sketch in the char- 
acters of noted persons he had met, and set them mov- 
ing in the large atmosphere of fateful destiny until 


110 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


they seemed like Plutarch’s heroes, more than human. 
And then as a relief he would caricature the people we 
saw about us, until pigmy and distorted they fled from 
our- fancies at a peel of laughter. But Jesse Schanck 
he would not thus playfully malign, declaring him of 
all men he had known, to be the only sincere one, say- 
ing the glosses of our artificial civilization could never 
hide his rude originality but that he would crop out, 
basalt and columnar, though hard, and hateful to our 
dainty living. Knowledge, he would say, had crystal- 
lized in huge lumps in his brain, which under the mel- 
lowing pressure of time distilled an acrid wisdom on 
his tongue. 

These things sorely tried my admiration of him, but 
in the main he held me constant to the charm of his 
genius and the surprise of his versatility, though the 
latter was a fatal talent which prevented his excelling, 
so soon would he tire of detail in any one pursuit. 
For this reason those things were best which he finished 
at a single heat, as a poem or a painting which he 
wrought out in one -night, or a piece of music composed 
between sun and sun. While any extended work was 
delayed by dreary intervals of apathy, though he some- 
times surprised me by assiduous studies in some 
abstruse sciences or arts, and by his ever fresh interest 
in questions relating to the nervous s}^stem of man, in 
psychology, and allied philosophies, which he frequently 
discussed with Dr. Murray. For the latter, because of 
his higher pursuits in medicine, he professed a hearty 
•respect and liking, but for the routine practitioners he 
had many a sly fling, saying that, there could be few 
things more degrading to a learned man than to be cast 
by fate into a position where he must forever inquire 
into and seek to remedy the vicious functions of the de- 
caying creatures about him. And he declared that that 


THE GHOST. 


Ill 


beauty would be a hideous nightmare to him, whose 
anatomy he knew, and whose physiology had been de- 
tailed into his ear with all its evolutions. To see such 
an one dancing before him at a ball, though lithe and 
elastic in her movements, and glowing like Aurora, 
would go far to drive him into a hermit's cell. 

And as he spoke he fell into one of those cold ab- 
stractions which sometimes visited him, and .began un- 
consciously to sketch and paint in water colors a female 
head, which charmed me for its rude beauty. He 
worked very quickly and I looked on, keenly inter- 
ested, as the various features began to assume a life-like 
appearance, but I came near making an exclamation, as 
the bold, handsome eyes, burned forth in a countenance 
wistful and troubled, though full of character. It 
brought back to my mind a face I had seen with Tom, 
and the very notes of the mandolin sounded for a mo- 
ment in my ears. 

He threw down his pencil and gazed into vacancy. 

“Why who is this, Mr. Granville?” I earnestly 
questioned. 

“ That ? ” and he spoke almost contemptuously, 
“ why, a woman who did me the honor to say she loved 
me, and she pestered me with a thousand attentions un- 
til I thought I should go mad. She was my nurse 
when I was a child and poverty threw us together long 
after, for that wizard fiend delights in the torments of 
the unfortunate and keeps misery raw by mating incon- 
gruous souls.” 

He kept on speaking, but it seemed to me he did not 
comprehend that he was doing so. 

“ I had been abandoned by powerful friends, and she 
slaved for me, begging on the streets, and fishing in the 
gutters of the sea to buy me the books I loved so well. 
She was subservient as a spaniel, cheered into gayety 


112 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


by a nod of approval, and broken on the rack by an ill 
word or a frown. When I complained of a draft under 
my broken door in the hovel where we lived, she crept 
from her own room, and fenced it with her body 
throughout the dreariest night of winter. I stumbled 
over her there, in the morning, and she stirred out of 
the lethargy of frost and asked me with a ghastly 
smile, “ Had I slept warmer ? ” I was so griped with 
the horror of it — she was older than I, of mean descent 
and destitute, — and all my ambitions being centred in 
the rich and great, I abandoned her that very day, and 
have never seen her since, though I have heard that 
after a year or two, out of very despair, she became the 
third or fourth wife of some wandering sailor with a 
dozen children, and disappeared from the coasts that 
knew her.” 

“Was it between Worcester and Rondaine?” I 
asked in grief and astonishment. 

God bless you, no ! ” he shouted, coming suddenly 
to himself, and looked upon me with hauteur, “ can I 
not picture forth a penurious romance but you must 
apply it to me like a ghost in a haunted chamber?” 
And he threw the painting into the fire and snatched 
his flute and blew an angry strain which suddenly soft- 
ened into something sweet and tender, though wild 
and strange, when he laid it down and listened atten- 
tively. This attitude of listening had * grown upon 
him of late, and he would sometimes pause in the 
midst of a sentence, and strain forward with pro- 
foundest attention, until I regarded him with creeping 
wonder. 

And now 'occured one of those blind unreasoning 
fears which at rare intervals visit the superstitious, and 
out of which they conjure the startling fancies that rob 
the peace and security of families. How it all came 


113 


THE GHOST. 

about I do not know, whether it was from one of those 
mischievous propensities which sometimes swayed Mr. 
Granville to commerce with the credulity of inferior 
minds, or whether from the darksome Sittings of Jesse 
Schanck, coming and going at unseasonable hours 
about our house and grounds as if he feared to leave 
us long alone — whatever it was, the servants, old slaves 
held by the easiest ties, began to peer and chatter at 
the slightest sound or quavering shadow of some 
object lifted by the wind in wintry moonlight, and 
huddling by the lurid kitchen fire would talk of things 
unhallowed, men done to death in the dark, and ghosts 
wandering their old familiar haunts. 

At first we could but notice without conjecturing 
the cause of the uneasiness among these humble folk, 
but all doubts were set at rest when one midnight in 
December, they came crowding in the thick of panic, 
and beating with hoarse cries upon my bedroom door, 
demanding in tones of phrensy, “ If I was still alive ? ” 
“ If the ghost was yet within ? ” And when stifling with 
alarm, for not comprehending, I thought the house on 
fire, I groped in the dark and threw the door wide 
open, they fell in upon me shrieking and grovelling 
with fear. 

My mother came hastily with a shawl about her 
shoulders, bearing a candle, and followed by my father 
looking very pale and excited. Phoebe extricated her- 
self from the dusky group, and with gestures of direful 
import announced to us, that for a long time noises had 
been heard late at night, doors faintly creaking, win- 
dows sliding softly, a step on the stairs— that this 
night sitting about the big ’glowing fireplace in the 
kitchen an old story of a mysterious murder which 
had occurred in Worcester years ago, had curdled 
their blood anew and kept them from their beds. In 
8 


114 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the pause of the wind they had heard the watch dog 
whining in his kennel, and looking out the uncur- 
tained window they had plainly .seen the dim, mist- 
begotten figure of a man glide past, one moment in 
the uncertain reflection of the light, but long enough 
and sufficient to bring back to them the loved compan- 
ion of my earliest days. They sat awe-struck by the 
fire for what seemed to them a whole hour, when one 
more daring, softly opened the door of the dining- 
room, and listening, beckoned them all to come. Cran- 
ing their heads in silence they heard far off the 
thinnest echoes in the hall, and stole there, straining at 
their ears the lees of sound. Far up the stair, with 
head bent low upon his breast, and bearing a yellow 
taper, his shadow falling black and thick behind him, 
old Tom went straight into my room. 

I shall never forget with what calmness my mother 
regarded this frenzied group, smiling down their fears, 
until they recoiled in humility in the face of theirposi- 
tive convictions protesting feebly. 

“ Indeed ! Indeed ! now, Miss Margaret ! ” and end- 
ing with a fatuous whine. “Now Phoebe, Ponto, 
Julius, Rose, all of you! listen!” she called, “Could 
a ghost carry a candle ? Could a spirit cast a shadow ? 
For shame upon you ! your idle tales of murder and 
goblins have unhinged your intellects ! A flaw of 
snow ” — and one came at that instant against the win- 
dow — “ a flaw of snow has been your gliding figure of 
a man, and Mr. Granville seen retiring to his room has 
been your ghost. Now, from this night, you must not 
be found out of your beds after ten o’clock without 
special permission, on pain of being sold to Jesse 
Schanck.” 

Then bidding me bring my candle, she lighted it at 
her own, and putting it in Phoebe’s hand, she waved 


MIDNIGHT MUSIC. 


115 


imperiously toward the stairway, and dreading the 
threatened master more than a vault full of apparitions 
they clattered hurriedly away. Even as they went my 
father protested nervously against the abuse she had 
made of his idol’s name. 

“ David,” she murmured mildly, “ go into Jude’s room 
and see if the windows are closed and everything se- 
cure.” 

He took the candle, muttering dejectedly, and in the 
moment, I saw in the lustre of her startled eyes what it 
was she really feared,— the living more than the dead. 
She drew me to her with a gesture of commiseration 
that puzzled and pained me for many a long day after- 
ward, though we clung to each other in the dark, in a 
sort of troubled sympathy. 

My father returned reporting all was well. “Will 
you go to Mr. Granville’s room, and see if he is with- 
in ?.” she asked. 

Wrapped in the heavy blanket I had seized from my 
bed, during the tumult I sprang lightly up to my tu- 
tor’s room. It was on the third floor some distance 
away, but I was there and back on the heels of the 
minute. He was not there and his bed had not been 
slept in that night. This was not thought of such great 
moment however, as Mr. Granville had now a wide ac- 
quaintance and was frequently late abroad, and it 
might be, would on this night not return at all. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

MIDNIGHT MUSIC — THE PANTOMIME; 

But the slaves nursed their terror, listening for 
strange sounds in the long nights, and their dusky faces 
grew darker and weazened as the weeks went by. As 


ne 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


an outgrowth of this, one thing came to me oftener 
than another — could Tom be dead ? It gave me a 
heavy pang. And yet it could not be so, for our sordid 
relative who feared and hated him, to my eyes seemed 
ever to labor under a cruel expectancy of his coming. 
The hour that he could spare from his great enterprises 
at the close of each day, was always given to us, who 
could have been so well content without it. And now 
that he had got ten from somewhere an obscure hint, 
he harassed our peaceful household more than ever. 
At his unexpected presence, which was barred by no 
finesse of ceremony, my mother would catch her hand 
convulsively to her heart, as if something dark and 
poisonous rolled in on her which only his absence could 
relieve. Sometimes she seemed right rigidly deter- 
mined to throw him defiance and order him from her 
presence, but the sight of my father fawning about him 
with welcome, would unnerve her, and without show- 
ing the effort it cost her, she would become calmly tol- 
erant; but to repeat this day after day would have 
worn a heart of steel. 

There was one other, beside my father, who if not 
openly pleased, was always interested in my uncle’s 
diurnal visits. Mr. Granville’s rare mind, without ver- 
bal inquiry, had taken in the surveillance under which 
we rested, and, doubtless, digesting what he must un- 
avoidably have learned from the townspeople and dis- 
mal remarks dropped by the servants, knew more than 
anyone else in our household as to how matters stood. 
In a quiet way he looked on, apparently oblivious, 
but after one of my uncle’s visits, ending often with 
some javelin of speech shot from his rude tongue 
pell-mell into the courtly phrases of my tutor, I have 
seen the latter retire without discomposure to his room, 
where he addressed himself sparingly to a bottle of 


MIDNIGHT MUSIC. 


117 


old wine, for in wines he was a connoisseur, while he 
gravely gave himself to a deep thoughtfulness, that 
lasted an hour at a time. 

Now in the early days of my recollection, my mother 
would sometimes sing a certain pathetic song, which, 
she once told me, had been composed by my Aunt 
Adelia, accompanying it upon the quaint piano-forte, 
which had been imported from England. Whenever I 
heard her sing this I knew some peculiar sadness op- 
pressed her, and that she had been gazing a long time 
on my beautiful aunt’s picture. My father would step 
very gently if he were in an adjoining room, but if he 
were in her pretty little library he would steal out and 
away, as if her sadness vexed him. But I would hear 
Tom coming with a stilly foot and knew he was linger- 
ing about the door with eyes astart like winged dreams. 
Down my own face rolled tears, and I came to associate 
this tender, soulful strain with grief I could not under- 
stand, and with Tom all hushed and wistful in the dark. 
It had been a long, long time, and I had not heard this 
song for years, when one night sitting in my tutor’s 
room completing a drawing I had begun under his eye, 
he sitting in abstraction, occasionally sipping from his 
glass, this wierd melody softly arose and took the si- 
lence with its spell. As of old my eyes were swim- 
ming, and memory began to stir. Mr. Granville leaned 
forward eagerly, and when the last note died away, he 
took his pencil and began to write a musical score, 
while I threw down my work and went to seek my dear 
mother. 

As I descended the dim-lighted stairs I stopped sud- 
denly, thinking I heard a footstep coming toward me, 
but in a moment went on, yet, as I passed my own 
door I fancied it vibrating as though some one had just 
passed through. But now that I was schooling iny 


118 


PHANTOM DAAS. 


fancies, I proceeded. When I reached the library my 
mother met me, saying, “Ah, Jude! was it you who 
sighed so heavily ? ” 

“ No, mother.” 

“ Then it must have been the wind which creeps 
about our halls serpent-wise, frightening the servants, 
and giving us all a turn.” 

My heart felt very warm and softened and I was 
longing like one in a foreign land for the old times 
which seemed so far to me, but the look in my 
mother’s eyes told me she was thinking of the days I 
knew not of, and so there was no perfect harmony in 
our souls. 

So many times had there arisen something like this, 
and we had home toward each other, but there was a 
shadow between, something sinister — we could not 
meet. Hence it arose that new experiences were not 
imparted by me, from a feeling, inexpressible, but 
potent that, without genuine sympathy it were better 
to abide my time, for I was of that sensitive nature 
a half confidence or a strained interest in me reacted 
upon me so keenly that my spirit was flayed, and 
quivered bare and bleeding. But not to do my part 
toward those I loved, also reacted upon me, and I be- 
came the victim of self torture, accusing myself of a 
want of those very qualities which were so disastrous 
to my peace of mind. 

Often, as I have ere now confessed, I had approached 
my mother thinking to tell her of my acquaintance 
with Marie, and my occasional visits to the mansion of 
her uncle, but the certainty of her questioning me as 
to all the antecedents of that acquaintance would make 
me pause. How could I pain her by telling her in de- 
tail the adventures of that thrilling night with Tom ? 
How could I pain myself in bringing discredit on the 


MIDNIGHT MUSIC. 


119 


only one who had ever thoroughly loved me? And 
now, when I looked upon her and detected tears upon 
that passionless face, they seemed like drops from 
heaven upon the marble visage of a saint, and the far- 
off eyes which saw me and yet did not see me, had no 
light in them that called me, and I crept silently away. 

I descended into the great- hall, and wrapping a 
cloak about me I paced disconsolately to and fro, my 
footsteps dogged with echoes, and the elms reaching 
out long arms to trace mysterious meanings on the win- 
dows, faintly knocking and beckoning in the wind. My 
father suddenly opened a door under which a faint 
bloom of light had shone, and holding a candle over 
his head gazed with startled eyes as I approached. I 
followed him into the room where a good log fire was 
cheerfully singing and dancing in the chimney. He 
had been engaged in reading one of the minor poets, 
his source of consolation when life went hard with him, 
and when we had exchanged a few civilities I felt the 
interview was over, and bowing I withdrew, more 
vacant at heart than before. The night was calling 
me, the sea hoarsely plunging and calling. I seized 
my hat and went out under the stars. 

Judge Brief met me as I was returning home, and he 
threw up his hands like one astounded, and though I 
spoke to him he did not not return my salutation, but 
muttering excitedly as if he had seen a wraith he 
turned aside and disappeared. I stood looking after 
him a whole minute. It was now late and there was 
no light to be seen save in Mr. Granville’s windows, and 
to be rid of my increasing loneliness I bent my steps to 
his room. His fine face was flushed with wine and a 
wandering light was in his eye, and his greeting was 
something boisterous. 

“ Have you been out to meet him ? ” he cried. 


120 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


“ To meet whom ? ” 

“ The old man who walks in the dark ! He has a 
tryst to keep, but I shall fool the spirit that sends him. 
I will become that live ear into which he pours his tale. 
Men, themselves, are but spirits, incarnate no longer 
than teeth devour. How many go bleating in flocks to 
the shepherd’s playing — piped to the shambles ! My 
lady with a rose in either alabaster cheek, so sweet, so 
soft, so sentimental ! ever devouring with that small 
mouth, she out-symbolizes the caterpillar on the green 
bough, and she has been deceived ! Shall he not be 
overcome who has a cloud on his intellects ! And the 
ghost wrenched sighing from the flesh — how much 
less is he, than his fellow tricked out with the 
goodly proportions of health, with his good servant the 
body ready to do his bidding ? Go to ! I shall have my 
will.” 

I continued to stand and stare at him, and he was 
rejoiced at my wonder, continuing every moment to 
glow upon me with more fantastic meaning. 

“Music,” he cried, “music is a fine flame which 
quivers and dances upon the souls of men, and binds 
and lures, and calls more subtle than the voice of angel. 
Lo, in the highest heaven it still leads the aspiration of 
the arch spirits who dazzle about the throne ! Can any 
mortal escape its spell ! ” 

He seized his magic violin and sent it to the brink of 
his deep soul, and all at once a little tinkling sound 
came as a perfume into the air, as from the censor 
swung by the acolyte before the chanting priest. I 
sunk into a chair, while my ears rung with hollow mur- 
murs, as from the waves and the rocking winds and 
beatings of my heart and its hushed desires, was woven, 
a harmony which floated in the air. Anon it changed 
its divinity, when rising like a sea it sought to drown 


MIDNIGHT MUSIC. 


121 


me under, and all the while his intense eyes burned 
full on mine. Once when he had played more than 
usually tender and weird, trilling strange passions into 
the crowding dark, and filling the room with phantoms, 
I heard a low moan without, and seemed to know that 
Tom in a wild ecstasy had murmured aloud, as a forest 
creature might at Amphion’s playing. In a moment 1 
seemed to hear his shambling step retreating down the 
stairs. Was it the wind relaxing, making the old 
house creak with stealthy sounds ? 

A strange sneer crept about Mr. Granville’s mouth as 
he laid down his violin. 

“ That was a good fellow once, I’ll be bound,” he 
muttered, “ but what a wreck he has become ! His 
spirit is no longer his own. He is drawn here and there 
like a disengaged chemical atom that obeys the latest 
attraction. He reminds me of one of those vapid old 
soldiers I saw at Munich, who were cast into trances 
by a stern professor of the medical department, and 
made to obey his lightest will — he, thus living as it 
were, in two or three different bodies, and they, moving 
, automatons, with souls in limbo.” 

The spell was leaving me and I began to stir, rising 
with a feeling half of shame, and half of doubt as to 
the reality of what had passed. Without a word I went 
straight to my room, hearing a suppressed mocking 
laugh behind me. 

I could not have been asleep long, before I awoke 
from a dream of sweet and penetrating music played 
by a wizard who lured me further and further out of 
the world. Awake I lay in moonlight, hearing music 
indeed, so soft that the ear must be lightly drowned in 
sleep that heard its winsome rippling on the air, so that 
it might have stolen all about the house scattering seeds 
of perilous dreams, and none have known it but he who 


122 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


sent it artfully along. How ravishing it sounded in 
the silent night ! That music was not played for 
naught, I felt, and even as I wondered, I fancied I 
heard the hesitating footsteps of poor Tom Crispin 
passing my door. 

“What devilish magic,” I whispered, “is this?” 

I stole out of my bed into the ghostly hall, and saw 
pictured on the wall, the door, of Mr. Granville’s 
room, wide open, the shadow of a man lingering 
about it, which finally went in. Whereupon Mr. 
Granville played a lulling air that drowsed about the 
senses until my eyes began to droop. Suddenly the 
music ceased. I saw the shadow of the man nodding 
wearily against the wall. Mr. Granville’s shadow got 
up and went over to this, and sepmed to be regarding 
it with curiosity and great satisfaction. Then began 
some silent incantations, the shadow passing its hand 
before the sleeping one’s face repeatedly, and afterward 
touching it gently here and there, and proceeding to 
lift its arms and move its- legs, and put it in many 
statuesque positions, Finally whispering in its ear, 
and disappearing, the violin began to sound again, 
breathing a low but souhcompelling melody. The 
sleeping shadow, moving grotesquely, turned and came 
through the doorway and began to descend the stairs. 
1 shrank before it, horribly chilled, the music seeming 
to impel it onward. I knew it had come into my room, 
where I had hastily thrown myself on the bed, that it 
had come right up to me, and was putting out its spec- 
tral arms and was feeling the warm emanations of my 
living body. I did not stir, though dying with terror, 
knowing that whatever it was, spirit or human, that it 
acted not of its own volition, and I feared it as though 
it had come out of Tartarus. 

Directly the music- breathed a recall, soft and pene- 


MESMERISM. 


123 


trating as it had been, when I awoke an hour before. 
The wind sighing and rattling about the windows, 
sucked the door to, and rising, chilled to the bone, I 
locked and bolted it and fell upon my bed. With a 
boy’s imagination I pictured deeds of outlawry that 
might follow this unhallowed art, and when toward 
morning I heard an uncertain, gliding step, passing my 
door, I gave a great sigh of relief and fell into a dismal 
slumber. 

So hallowed and wholesome is the light of day that, 
when I awoke, I remained in doubt as to whether I had 
not dreamed all those torments instead of experiencing 
them, for I believed then as I believe now that, there is 
a witchery in music that plays upon us, evoking a 
thousand vain imaginings that strain us out of our- 
selves. 

At breakfast Mr. Granville met me with the same 
unaltered mien of courtesy, and I could with difficulty 
believe I had not dreamed the whole thing. My father’s 
evasive manner was the same. My mother patiently 
attentive, but silent, showed that harrassing thoughts 
nested within her brain. Once she looked at my tutor 
with serious pathetic eyes, a strong inquiring gaze 
which said as plainly as ever archangel at the den of 
demon, “ Come thou forth ! ” but he was seemingly 
calm in innocence, and betrayed no sign. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

MESMERISM. 

Sometime during the morning I sought out the male 
servants and carelessly questioned them, but soon found 
that each believed he had passed his night in bed, and 
curiously enough without a dream. 


124 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


Later I found myself in Dr. Murray’s parlor, before 
a ruby blaze which defied the wolfish blasts, leaping 
and snarling about the house. The kindly old man 
had just returned from his rounds at the neighboring 
hospital where attention to the various phases of nerv- 
ous diseases occupied his mind. He had been a 
student of Pinel, in Paris, and was a correspondent of 
many learned societies. His old fashioned house stood 
a little back from the street, covered with ivy, and in 
summer the ivy was all alive with birds. Within, the 
rooms were everywhere filled with books, for as some 
persons inherit money on all sides, he fell heir to li- 
braries, and I had heard his housekeeper say that scarcely 
a post arrived without its volume from some friend or 
author, and the booksellers everywhere were informing 
him of their capture of some stray folio of worth. He 
was not unlike Becker’s painting of Brabantio in ap- 
pearance, when he had pulled on his black silk skull- 
cap, and had leaned back attentively in his large chair, 
the fire giving a mellow richness to his refined features 
and making a sort of suihmer in his locks of snow. He 
could not have been over sixty, but a premature age, 
such as comes to lonely, studious men, or to those who 
hide a secret grief, perhaps, made him look ten years 
older, and for aught I know he may have been ten 
years younger than I place him. 

“ Will you tell me, sir,” I began, “ whether it is pos- 
sible for one man’s mind to so act upon another’s as to 
enslave it, and keep it in thrall, coming and going to 
its bidding, and all the time, perhaps, unconscious of 
it?” 

I can see him yet, beaming upon me almost as much 
as were the big brass andirons, for I was a favorite of 
his, and yet he seemed thoughtfully waiting for some 
further expansion of the question. At length he re- 


MESMERISM. 125 

plied so adroitly, as to come near surprising my secret 
from me. 

“To some extent all minds act upon others. The 
souls embalmed in those old books look out upon us 
even now, and shape the thoughts we utter. How 
much more then do the living act and react upon each 
other in the sensitive atmosphere in which we are 
plunged as at the bottom of an ethereal sea. 

“ False theories enslave us, great authority enthralls 
the will, and makes us humble followers, who should 
explore for ourselves, and it is doubtful if most men 
do not in the their weakness invite sovreignty — but to 
what do you refer ? ” 

I mused painfully, seeking how I might make my- 
self intelligible without picturing forth the uncanny 
scene I had witnessed, and confessing to the deep per- 
turbations of my heart, but the courteous old man 
came to my rescue by pretending not to notice my con- 
fusion, as he rose, excusing the interruption, while he 
rung the bell and ordered the servant to bring in more 
hickory logs and heap them on the andirons. 

After this divertisement I begun anew, “ Does the 
human mind always proceed upon the same planes of 
thought — are there not some notable eccentricities quite 
out of the common way, which are a law to themselves, 
over which a cunning mind might get control, mould- 
ing the individual to his own will ? ” 

“It is because you withold the animus of your 
question that you make it obscure ; ” he said, smiling 
kindly, “ but I think I get at your meaning. There 
are so many departures from the rule you speak of that, 
nothing but the sanity of God could ever bring out order 
from the confusion of intellects in the world. There 
are all shades and variations of mind, conflicting pur- 
poses, desperate resolves, hidden meanings, aspirations 


126 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


— what not ! Heroes are mounting, dynasties tumbling 
— but let us get down to the individual, 'and even here 
we have eternity hiding for an instant, as it looks out 
and mocks us. I often think, when I regard fixedly 
my insane that, here is a knot which, could I untangle 
I should have a clue to the deity : and when I turn 
toward the sane I feel that here is the centre of the 
universe, that here all ways diverge, and toward it 
come all sounds, mysteries and influences. ’ Small 
wonder then if such an one, though preserving his 
autonomy in the sight of God, should become tributary 
to the genii about him. And so it falls, the men of 
rarest minds have often had the strongest hallucina- 
tions, and been subject to phenomena of sense. As 
Brutus on the eve of battle, Tasso in his long conver- 
sations with his guardian spirit, Goethe with his blue- 
gray vision, and Cellini with his vision of the sun, 
Socrates was subject to a divine voice which led or 
restrained him in all the affairs of life. Spinoza, 
Pascal, Van Helmont, have been under the influences of 
this wierd charm. And from these experiences the 
. variations are infinite, shading off into day-gilts and 
steeps of cavern-darkness. 

“ There are states of somnambulism in which some 
few of the faculties are awake and active, while all the 
others are sealed up in the profoundest slumber. And 
this may be not for a night, but for days, and even 
months, while a life may be led, consistent in its details, 
but antick and apposits to the full expression of the all- 
awakened intellectual senses. 

“ In the latter condition, all that passed in the former 
is entirely forgotten, but let the victim again fall into 
this lapse of nature, what occurred to him in this pre- 
vious state is remembered, while what occurred in his 
waking life is utterly erased for the time.” 


MESMERISM. 


127 


44 God bless the gentle old man ! ” I mentally ejacu- 
lated, 44 he thinks to ease my heart of any burden it 
may bear concerning the grave companion of. my 
youth.” But restraining the desire I had to confide in 
him all that I had experienced with Tom, and all my 
perplexities and fears, I confined myself to the object 
of my visit, and asked in as unaffected a tone as I 
could assume, as if I was merely interested in an 
abstruse study, — 

44 Cduld such a person as you describe, while in this 
somnambulistic condition, become subservient to the 
will of another ? ” 

The great fire sparkled and threw out a rousing 
warmth, disposing the mind to reverie, and the old 
physician settled himself deeper in his chair, abstracted 
for some minutes before he replied. 

44 1 was private secretary to Dr. Franklin, when he, 
with the French savants, by order of the king, many 
years ago, investigated the claims of Mesmer,” — and 
then followed a long discussion of animal magnetism, 
and before he was done with histories, theories, and 
examples, I had lost the cloudy surmise which had 
possessed me, that Tom had returned and was haunt- 
ing about me in the dark, not again to make himself 
known, and I began to doubt if it was not myself who 
had been mesmerized by Mr. Granville, and that all the 
succeeding occurrences were part of the drama he had 
instilled into me ! And I could scarcely await the 
conclusion of Dr. Murray’s long monologue to tear my- 
self away. 

Conflicting emotions arose within me, feelings of 
shame, repulsion, anger and dismay that any soul 
should be so wrought upon by another, ending in a 
humiliation of spirit which weakened me so greatly 
that I staggered as I walked homeward, and I scarcely 


m 


phantom days. 


dared look in men’s faces lest T should see some lurk- 
ing scorn of me in their eyes. Once, when I did look 
up at a crossing of the street, I saw Judge Brief go by 
upon the opposite side, and I fancied he gave me a 
searching glance, as to my greeting he lifted his hat 
and made me a stately bow, the hurrying populace 
saluting him right and left as he went along. Miss 
Jude passed me in her carriage wrapped in furs, affect- 
ing not to see me I thought, as with a gloved hand over 
her mouth she vanished, drolly smiling. 

The very porters, in their uncouth garb, eyed me 
suspiciously and rolled away. I came upon the heels 
of a motley crowd of merchants, seamen and ragged 
idlers, escorting the popular hero of finance to meet 
one of his incoming ships. As he strode forward 
wrapped in his old cloak, he rolled his Vulturine eyes 
and swore roundly at the sea that it should be always 
boiling like a pot, and delaying the ventures of a man. 
One of the sailors cried out, “ Captain, we have brought 
you a live ape from the Malay archipelago ! ” and 
the miser seemed pleased. 

I turned short about and sought my home a nearer 
way. 

On one thing I was resolved, to spend my indigna- 
tion on my tutor and tax him with his scheming. He 
was siting in his room in an attitude of deep dejection, 
and turned upon me a lack-lustre eye, calling moodily, 

“ I have just had a peep into the world that has 
stunned me. All the atmosphere of men’s love, cus- 
tom, sequence, that come between us and our fellow, 
till we cannot see but as we are taught to see, as the 
dance follows the tune, was suddenly lifted from me. 
I saw that old brown earth, like the huge beast that it 
is, and men like parasites, crawling upon its hideous 
scurf.” 


MESMERISM. 


129 


“ Perhaps Mesmer has you in his keeping,” I cried 
hotly, “and you see through his atmosphere, and dance 
to his tune.” 

He did not answer, but like one distraught, was exam- 
ining his own limbs, as if he had found something alto- 
gether outre, and unaccustomed. “ It is the reaction 
of last night’s mental debauchery,” I thought, and 
turned away. I pondered over the strange occurrences 
all the rest of the day, and finally came to the con- 
clusion that my tutor had exercised this mysterious art 
so secretly, for no other purpose than to test his powers 
over the mind of another, and that he doubted his suc- 
cess, or was repentant, and kept it from me lest I 
should be wounded by the knowledge. That he would 
tell me, I had no doubt, and I rather yearned to be in- 
itiated and in my turn captivate the will of some fellow 
creature, recognizing that there were some untamable 
qualities about, every man, some wild, outlying dis- 
tricts, never yet brought under control by the central 
spirit, but preyed upon magicians and flying genii. 

I managed to extract a doubtful comfort out of this, 
and once more plunged eagerly into my studies. But 
alone at night the whole shadowy picture and its fanci- 
ful music returned to me. I lay awake in an awe of 
mortal powers. Already I had deified in my imagina- 
tion the warrior, the priest, the poet and the mariner ; 
had triumphed in the apotheosis of their human genius ; 
but now had been manifested to me something far subtler, 
and an endless perspective was opened before me. 

And let him, who will, inveigh against mankind, be- 
littling them as the priest does, with epithets of worm, 
and dust, yet these have come from darkness to control 
the light. Let the planet roll in its tremendous sweep, 
itself an atom in the vast, profound, but it bears upon 
its giddy front the race that ever dying, ever renews 
9 


130 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


itself, and which, out of the storied past rises a giant 
more powerful than the mythic gods. 

Lightning in livery waits upon his thought; more 
tireless than Jove's eagle, steam bears him from zone 
to zone ; more potent are his cannon than the thunder 
that overturned the throne of Saturn ; his ear is alive 
in the instant to the tongue that whispers in darkness 
a thousand miles away; his eyes have singled the stars 
and caught the hints of lives in other worlds. He is 
more humane than the old religions. 

But even as these stately thoughts passed dimly 
through my brain, I could not help but strain my ear, 
like echo yearning over her shell, to catch some soft 
and sumptuous sound, like that which visited me in 
moonlight the night before. But the music slept in its 
nirvana, and finally I fell from day-dreams, to the deep 
slumber that falls, on youth and holds it enamored far 
into the margin of the new day. 


CHAPTER XV. 

TREASURE TROVE— EVIL GENII. 

I had approached him with coldness, and expected 
at least an unpleasant degree of formality on the part 
of my tutor at our next meeting. But there was a 
look of chastened remorse in his countenance which 
softened me, while he greeted me in a manner that was 
peculiarly grateful to my troubled feelings, and he con- 
tinued for a long time afterward, to win me by many 
kindnesses. And what was more surprising he avoided 
meeting Jesse Scharick, and appeared to be sincerely 
endeavoring to reform his ideas in reference to wealth 


TREASURE TROYE. 131 

and power, and to concentrate them upon his aban- 
doned literary enterprises. 

But never again did I so far yield to his charm, but 
that something shadowy danced before me menacing, 
or rose a vapor in the narrow streams that crowd their 
summer on the heart. 

He asked ma no questions, and I seemed to expect 
no solutions', so he redoubled his care and expended a 
wealth of scholarship upon my mind, until his sugges- 
tions, allusions, and brilliant apothegms came shower- 
ing in upon me like Danae’s gold, while, as to lpmself, 
he shut himself in at night, writing sometimes until 
the cocks crowed about the gates of dawn, weaving 
the happiest fancies in with great imaginings, the muse 
of tragedy sweeping sublimely before him. I confi- 
dently looked forward to those great achievements he 
had so long foreshadowed, and felt emuloifs chords 
struck in my own breast, and strove to be worthy of 
the intellectual companionship so freely bestowed upon 
me. 

Outside of my studies and his own literary work, he 
gave little time to the world, neglecting his correspond- 
ence, and reproached by the % commercial men with 
whom he had been upon such terms- of good fellow- 
ship. A few of them occasionally intruded upon his 
retirement, notably Mr. Creep, who, acting, upon some 
advice of his, had largely profited, much to the censo- 
rious displeasure of Jesse Schanck. Miss Jude, too, 
sought his judgment and became the gainer in some 
of her investments ; and much they plied him to com- 
plete the details of a project he had formed to search 
for the treasure said to have been in ships which found- 
ered along the American coast, at divers times in the 
past century. The fame of Sir William Phipps’ opu- 
lent venture in the Bahamas, more than a century be- 


132 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


fore, had never ceased to be an inspiration to adventur- 
ous spirits in the maratime towns. But, as Mr. Gran- 
ville rather testily informed his auditors, the expense 
of that enterprise had been enormous to the Duke of 
Albemarle, and would be much more in these days of 
costlier living. 

“ But think of the vast treasure he fished out of the 
salt water, where it would shortly have all gone to 
briny rust,” cried Miss Jude, in much agitation, “ and 
it would be so easy to get the bearings, — I think they 
call it, whatever that is, of the British ship lost off 
Cape Henlopen, and the divers, slippery wretches, for 
an extra dollar or two, would hurry their labor, so that, 
in a few days we would be richer by some millions. 
Sharing according to capital, I would not mind invest- 
ing half my fortune. Why are you so cool about it 
now when you were so urgent before ? I declare I have 
half a mind to go and interest Jesse Schanck in the pro- 
ject — I wonder he never thought of it ! ” 

“ ’ Sh ! ” hissed Granville warningly, glancing toward 
the door through which entered my father, looking 
very wan and uneasy at seeing so many gathered in the 
study, to whom he bowed diffidently and went out. 
I followed him, feeling I might also be an element of 
embarassment, but when I saw them going away in a 
group, I returned to the house, meeting Miss Jude in 
the hall, who, dropping her glasses, seized my hand, 
peering with smile -provoking coquetry into my face, 
as she whispered mysteriously, “ I think your idea of 
calling the affair, the New York and Rondaine R. R., 
is a capital one. It will put Jesse Schanck off the 
scent, and when we are more powerful we will search 
the wreck of the Alert right under his nose, let him ful- 
minate as he will.” 


TREASURE TROVE. 


138 


“My good lady!” I urged, “ I am not Mr. Gran- 
ville, and I don’t wish to know your secrets.” 

“ That is all right ! that is all right ! ” she nodded in 
energetic approval, “ we can’t be too careful — but don’t 
you think I might, in a diplomatic way, sound Jesse 
Schanck about the possible outcome of such a venture ? 
His judgment is so unerring and he lays his plans as 
though he trapped fortune with poison.” 

“ Dear madam, you had better never breathe in that 
terrible man’s presence, he would unwind you like a 
skein of silk.” 

“ Bah ! I could blow subtleties in his face like 
snuff ! ” 

Mr. Granville was not in the study, so I sought him 
in his own room, for information on some point, before 
1 proceeded to the college. He was fingering the 
strings of his violin as if it were a lute, and he regarded 
me absently as I spoke. 

I saw with pain that, this morning’s confidence had 
awakened his scarce smouldering desire for riches, and 
that my presence, *as being a reminder of his better re- 
resolves, fretted him to the core. Without answering, 
he turned to the table at his side, and began consulting 
a number of maps with which it was littered. He had 
brought out a map he had drawn himself, on the pro- 
jection of Mercator, of the Atlantic coast of America, 
and had pinned it on the wall. I went up to it. It 
was beautifully done in colors, and was dotted here 
and there, in dangerous localities, as being places where 
shipwrecks had occurred ; and the name of the ship, 
date of the wreck, and the alleged amount of specie 
she carried at the time, were all noted. It was a curious 
record, and gave one a shock of surprise at the enor- 
mous aggregate of the loss of life and treasure in our 
waters, in a mere hundred years. 


134 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


True to the antic mysticism of his character, he had 
drawn in the neigborhood of all such points of disaster, 
shapes of demons, in flaming colors, as being the irrec- 
oncilable deities of the shoals and whirlpools of the 
coast. I remarked upon it, and he answered me rather 
sullenly that, without doubt men were beset everywhere 
by spiritual agencies that buffeted each other in their 
desire for destruction. I shook my head quietly, 
without reply. He muttered peevishly to himself, and 
thrust the maps aside. 

“ I had a dream of a villainous sailor last night,” 
said he, “ so I was not surprised when those people 
came to-day to urge me forward in this treasure seek- 
ing. It is part of my fate I presume, so I had as well 
say farewell to the muse, as I must to you, in no long 
time, my work being nigh done here. I had as well 
ceased to struggle against the three.” 

And he lifted himself wearily, a dejected look in his 
haughty eyes, as if he had indeed been stemming a 
headlong current, and was now being borne under by it. 

“ You see,” he continued, after a moment, “this idea 
of evil genii would obtrude itself into my tragedy 
too !• ” And he extracted a page of manuscript, from a 
number of sheets lying on his desk, and read : — 

“The long, lean devils in the air, 

Spirits unclean, whom no man sees, 

On the bat’s wings and red lightning fare 
Down the wind’s avenues and the storm’s lees. 

Whom they find ripe for wickedness, him 
Enter they into like bees in their hive, 

Curl round his heart, and make his eyes dim, 

Till he loathes his brethren and all things alive. 

Thus into Nero the genii throng — 

Riotous devils ! and with their black art 
Thrust him to crimes, and hale him along 
To plunge the sword in his mother’s heart. 


THE PHYSICIAN AND HIS PATIENT. 135 

Through him they give order, and august Home 
Is fired with their torches, mid shriek and yell 
Of the flying people, while spire and dome 
Blaze to heaven like a noon in hell! ” 

And doubtless he would have continued to read, and 
to discourse upon the subject, while I stood by wonder- 
ing, but determined to preserve an unquestioning atti- 
tude, for I had found in the past the utter futility of 
pressing him with either argument or entreaty, when 
old Poinpey entered with his mail, the post from New 
York having arrived. But so much absorbed was he 
that, he threw aside many of his letters unopened, 
tossing one of them, which was covered with foreign 
stamps, as if in contempt, against the wall, whence it 
fell to the mantle-piece, while he sneered, “ Another 
evil genius ! ” And weeks afterward I saw it lying in 
the same place with the seal unbroken. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE PHYSICIAN AND HIS PATIENT. 

’Twas on a morn of May delicious and redolent, 
when the spring beckoned with flowered apple-boughs, 
and even old men felt youth creeping in their veins 
like wine, that I mounted my horse and rode out of 
the city seeking for green lanes and solitary places/ 
My tutor had declined accompanying me and had left 
an hour before for some business engagement, seeming 
very much preoccupied, and scarcely heeding my invi- 
tation. For some months he had been less devoted to 
literature, but had been studying his maps and charts, 
and consulting with sailors as if he meant to make the 
long contemplated venture on the seas. Twice he had 


136 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


gone to New York with Mr. Creep, as if upon some 
mysterious affair, and he had confidentially told me 
that nothing but my approaching graduation from col- 
lege could keep him longer to his engagement with my 
family. I felt my mother looked forward to its termi- 
nation as eagerly as he did, for I knew well the charac- 
ter of her sentiments toward him, as he also undoubt- 
edly divined, but such was the ease of his manner, and 
his want of sensitive distrust that, I think, had there 
been nothing further to disturb him, he could have 
lived on with us in cheerful spirit to the end of time. 

I tied my horse to a young sapling, and clambered 
through a spicy undergrowth of forest, out on a ledge 
of rock, where I thought to obtain a panoramic view 
of the harbor and the city, when I was startled at hear- 
ing a gruff voice beneath me uttering incisive curses 
and threats against Granville and Mr. Creep, whom he 
wished, at that moment drowned fathom deep in slime. 
I recognized the voice of Jesse Schanck, and being 
curious to see the occasion of his spiteful address, I 
leaned over the cliff, knowing that he could not hear 
me, the breeze sweeping smartly from the sea, and a 
voice of breaking surf coming up the rocks. He was 
seated on the root of a blasted tree looking out through 
marine glass at a tiny speck of a boat which was beat- 
ing up and down with' the surges. 

“ Ay, curse you ! ” he shouted, “ I’ve detected your 
'soundings before, and presently you’ll row back to the 
same old grounds. You’ll rue the job, not I.” 

Much more he said, but his mutterings, though 
deadly, grew gradually quiet, and at length he got up, 
and leading down the hill went off around the promon- 
tory. I regained my horse, and cantered back to Wor- 
cester. Finding it yet some time before noon, I took 
the ocean drive, and having ridden about, for half an 


THE PHYSICIAN AND HIS PATIENT. 


137 


hour, was returning, when there came a ringing bark 
behind me, startling my horse, and almost at the same 
moment a great brown dog came leaping joyfully at my 
stirrup. My heart gave a throb of pleasure for it was 
Luck, and I knew the family had returned to the de 
Rouville mansion from their winter-life in New York. 
The greyhound fawned upon me with a sort of famished 
delight, and much to the annoyance of Selim I gave 
him many hearty caresses. 

When last T parted with Marie, I had said, “when 
Luck comes to me I shall know you have returned, and 
I shall hasten to you with speed as great as his ! ” for 
the dog would come further and further to meet me ; 
at first it was at the forest, then at the seaside, at last, 
as if he knew with a human intelligence he would seek 
me at the town’s edge on the stated days I would visit 
the old mansion. Now, indeed, he had come nearly to 
my own home, and with a fine zest I turned about and 
put my horse to a gallop. 

In no long time I had put the city behind me, and 
with heart wildly beating I emerged through the park, 
and saw the fruit trees gay with blossoms all about the 
great mansion, whose windows were wide open, and a 
brilliant banner was flying from a standard on the roof. 

Old Jean came forth from the stable wrinkling a wel- 
come on his honest face, and when I had dismounted he 
led my hot steed slowly up and down under the trees. 
“ The master has returned,” — how my heart bounded 
wildly at his words 1 “ and the young ladies are 
within.” 

Marie greeted me with cordial eyes, and a hand like 
a flower, while Luck thrust himself between us divid- 
ing the welcome. Madame Chevreul had a glint of 
kindness on her severe features, while the arched face 


138 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


of Jacqueline was in and away, as if she were startled 
beyond recall. 

“ How happy I am to see you again ! ” I cried softly 
to Marie, and once more my hand found its way right 
joyously to hers. The old madam did not look around, 
she was mumbling aloud to herself. 

“ Beloved France ! We shall soon iind our way 
back to you ! ” Jacqueline returned, shaking her 
linger at me, “You are late in offering your congratu- 
lations. But we need no troubadour. The s£a-mews 
came and gave us a song, and the sea himself, dressed 
,all in surge as he was, with a flood tide behind him, 
joined in grandly with the bass. What a swell he is ! 
Do you know Madame Chevreul is growing deaf? We 
first discovered it when she c'ould not hear her own 
praises — and her face has grown placid too. Well, she 
was always in love with silence, and at her age, to wait 
longer, was ” , 

“ Why, Jacqueline,” grated Madame Chevreul, com- 
posedly, “your lips move and you say nothing : you are 
at liberty to address a few formal words to the young 
gentleman.” 

“Thank you !” screamed the young girl, “I was 
having, some weighty thoughts, and . as they strode 
through my head they trod my lips up and down, as the 
hunters do the sedges. You are formally welcome to 
the castle as you formerly were, Master Jude.” And 
then with a make believe spiteful twist, lowering her 
voice as the old governess turned away, “ It sets not 
well upon a household of German descent, as we of 
Lorraine are, that a French duenna ” 

“ Please, Jacqueline ! ” 

“ W hy, don t I please, Marie ? It has ever been my 
study — like a callow lawyer, my mind runs to pleas.” 

At this moment in an adjoining apartment I heard 


THE PHYSICIAN AND HIS PATIENT. 139 

manly voices, one deep toned and mellow, the other 
short, quick, excitable, and the jarring of a door, as if 
the parties had but just entered. Alter a brief time 
as if for salute, there came the glint of swords cross- 
ing, appels, beats, glissades, all in such perfect time, 
that my bosom swelled and my right hand itched for 
the foils. 

“It is my uncle and his physician,” exclaimed Marie, 
“ every morning they spend a short time in fencing, 
with a zest that is truly enjoyable. He has expressed 
a warm desire to make your acquaintance, and I will 
take him to you in the library presently.” 

“ Ah, but he is one grand man,” broke in the little 
Jacqueline, clasping her hands. “I could not forgive 
anyone else for the feints and parries that drive papa 
distractedly about the room: I like the conversation 
of the swords — sharp, ready fellows ! Through clash 
of opinions, how nimble of tongue, with home thrust, 
rejoinder, and a wit that rankles ! ” 

And at this she rushed from us, and in the next room 
we heard her crying, “ Bravo ! ” 

“ What is the matter Jude? you look strangely ex- 
cited ? ” 

“ Ah, Marie, it is at the thought of meeting that gal- 
lant uncle of yours, of whom I have heard so much.” 

A troubled look came into her clear eyes. “ He has 
seasons of great depression, in which, though he is 
kind and considerate as ever, he prefers to be alone, 
and sometimes he remains in his suite of rooms for 
days, dining in silence with Dr. Damour, who is fa- 
mous in his profession, and not without hope of being 
able to return him to that serene and sunny disposi- 
tion he once enjoyed. In the meantime he will not 
permit any but lively, inspiring music in the house, 
and he prescribes for him fencing, riding, even the de- 


140 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


tails of business, and endeavors to have him mingle 
with the world, though with earnestness almost bor- 
dering on agony, it has seemed to me, he has inter- 
dicted any intrusion on his privacy during his melan- 
choly days. I tell you you all this, dear friend, because 
of your interest in us, and that you may understand 
why it is, if after all you should not meet my uncle, 
for we can not tell when these sad attacks may come.” 

I was struck with the inexpressible solicitude rising 
through the gentle gayety of her face, as the shadow 
from a turbid underflow darkens the lucid stream above. 
And too, I had the pang strike through me that some- 
thing sinister was everywhere corroding at the roots of 
life. 

In rushed Jacqueline. 44 His Excellency is in a charm- 
ing humor. While the long swords bit about each 
other he hummed a delicate air. 4 Oh, my little Jacque- 
line ! ’ he cried, 4 this is a tourney for your sake ! Look 
that you smile on me!’ ‘To whomsoever wins, I'll 
give the first rose that blooms in the garden ! ’ I called. 
4 You’re a true fortune,’ said he, 4 you’ve no wreath for 
the vanquished.’ They have gone to the library now. 
I told him Master Ruland was here, and we are to take 
you to him at once.” 

Up rose Marie, and the* old Madame turned slowly, 
clasping her hands and smiling abstractedly. The 
blood which had been humming in my ears before, now 
swelled to the sound of a torrent, and thought went 
out of me like a lark from the earth. Oh, for the as- 
suring presence of Tom, kindling and helping me as of 
old ! In my strong excitement I reached out blindly 
and encountered the hand of Marie. Thus moving in 
a little group we all went toward the library. But 
there was a sound within as of men rising in haste, a 
chair was thrown down, and the door was bolted incon- 


THE CURSE OE MARLOWE. 


141 


tinently. Confused at this, we all returned to the draw- 
ing room and spent a short time in waiting, but no mes- 
sage came to us, and presently Marie went alone to the 
library. There was the sound of a horse, and Jean 
went by the windows at a gallop. Jacqueline was 
silent, almost moody, while Madame Chevreul, plunged 
in cold depths of meditation, rose now and then with 
mutterings, only to descend again. I only lingered in 
the hope of seeing Marie, for conscience told me I 
should away, and without exactly comprehending why, 
a despairing mood came over me. As I was rising to 
leave, Marie came in, the lustre all gone out of her 
face, “ I would you were my brother,” she whispered, 
“ for this is hard to bear alone.” Jacqueline came to 
her, wreathing her arms about her, and leaning her 
head upon her shoulder as though she would weep. 
Muttering to the surface once more, the old governess 
seemed to open her eyes for the first time, and under 
the confusing impulse of a duty to be performed, she 
rose tall and stern, “ I forbid it young ladies : to 
your books — it is time to say adieu ! ” 

With appealing looks that spoke everything and 
darkness, we parted. As I rode into town I met Jean 
painfully returning, and a little while afterward Dr. 
Murray in his high gig passed me at a round trot. The 
physician saluted me, half halted, looked back, then 
drove rapidly on again. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE CURSE OE MARLOWE. 

Left to my own devices when not engaged with my 
books, my father laboriously patching his ruined en- 
terprizes, formulating anew, or following his doughty 


142 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


brother-in-law for the acrid fragments of wisdom he 
would let drop, while my mother graciously held tedi- 
ous drawing-rooms with old fading townspeople, 1 wan- 
dered disconsolately, sometimes riding to the confines 
of the park and gazing at the de Rouville mansion, 
where I had not been since that disappointing visit in 
May. At the warm touch of fancy’s wand, I would set 
all my little world moving within me, as I sat upon my 
horse, centaur-like, in the green wood, poring upon the 
windows before me. Sounds ill-defined, and in other 
ears unheard, had character to me — she was stirring in 
her enchantment with a silken rustle — was comforting 
with honied phrase the melancholy heart — or was pen- 
sive herself, like a flower in a lonely place, and the 
wind was whispering my thoughts at the lattice — and 
yet if any bold tongue had asked me if I loved, I 
should have been startled, for that holy mystery was 
not yet revealed to me. I was waiting patiently her 
summons, in a measure satisfied to be held even thus 
remotely in the service of a soul so adorable, and could 
not believe myself forgotten though tedious days went 

by- 

Dr. Murray had brought me the day after, a message 
from Marie that, she would send for me when her 
uncle was recovered sufficiently to see me, and ending 
with kindly compliments, which the doctor sup- 
plimented by saying, “ Bide the time patiently, my 
lad.” Her tender expression, “ I would you were my 
brother, Jude, that you might help me bear this 
burden,” had lingered with me, and in my heart I 
looked upon Marie as a dear sister, something ideal, 
and not to be attained. And then, again, I grew per- 
plexed by that reiterated sentence of the old governess, 
“ Beloved France, we shall soon greet thee once 
more ! ” Were they going away ? Should I never see 


THE CURSE OF MARLOWE. 143 

this winning, dear, attractive one again ? Seeing the 
gardener upon a day, working near the entrance of 
the park, I turned and dashed madly into the thicket 
by the stream bringing back with me a boquet of mag- 
nblias, which I fervently kissed, and calling gave to 
him. 

“ Take them, good friend, and give them to the 
peerless one—” 

“ To which one ? ” he mumbled sententiously. 

“ To Marie ! to Marie ! And how is your master ? ” 

“ I know not ; the doctors have him in their clutches. 
There are no more good days when disease and' the 
leeches do battle in a man. And then the old 
Madam — ” 

“ Tell her you have seen me — ” 

“Who? the old Madam?” 

“ Oh, no, no ! Marie ! ” And feeling his sullen 
distress would not bear more, I bade him good-day, 
and rode slowly back into the city. 

It was the morning afterward that my tutor, recita- 
tions over, proposed a walk, and glad of his com- 
panionship I readily assented, and we were speedily on 
our way. But his manner was absent and almost 
morose, and we talked together fitfully, with pauses 
oppressive between. I spoke of my approaching 
graduation in the next month from Worcester college. 
I had been chosen valedictorian and my theme was 
oratory. For weeks the subject had possessed .me and 
my classical readings in this noble art had thrilled and 
raised me above myself. 

But here, as usual, my tutor could not refrain from 
his sly fling, saying : 

“ The men of silent resolve were those who moulded 
destiny, while the orator \vas but the red glow of 
public opinion, which died out as the cause grew cold. 


144 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


But under all the mighty change was working, even 
when peace was lolling at his ease and crowned with 
chaplets.” 

A moment afterward he burst into loud and bitter 
laughter, crying, 

“ By heaven ! I wonder where we giants are going ! 
You and I, too near for critical judgment, see individ- 
uals only, but the cold-eyed geniijs looks in on us at 
the proper perspective and sees a nation as one man, 
haughty, defiant, braggart, but covetous, mean and 
perjured, a sycophant, an oppressor, until broken in 
turn, he rages, despairs and dies. And all this coil 
has been going on for ages, and in the same pit — 
Bah ! ” 

“Are there no virtues? ” I asked. 

“ Gilding, we see everywhere. Religions rise up in 
simple majesty, lowly and reverent, and pure in their 
ecstacy as the first morning that blushed till noon in 
the presence of creative God, but at their zenith grown 
ceremonious, soulless, powerful and ferocious, drawn 
downward by the strong undercurrent they topple like 
a huge wave into a thousand sects, grumbling, canting, 
and lost in the vortex.” 

Thus engaged we avoided the crowded marts, an.d 
going at one time through a short side street we 
passed a small yellow house with a great sycamore 
tree rearing its contorted, spotted trunk above it. 

“That tree,” he observed, as if admiringly, “seems 
to me to have something animal in its nature, and 
the } r ellow house holds a spirit sinister and for- 
bidding. Might we not suppose the tree and the 
house evil genii, watching yon great gloomy pile and 
biding their time ? ” And he pointed towards a 
frowning old wooden iving belonging to a spacious 
but decaying building on the next street. 


THE CURSE OF MARLOWE. 


145 


He had scarcely spoken when a dull heavy sound 
of explosion occurred beneath it, and a portion of the 
basement wall fell outward, through the rent of which 
a thick smoke was emitted. There was a smothered 
cry within, and without more ado we leaped the low 
walls between and plunged into the cellar. Here a 
pungent smoke irritated the eyes and nostrils, but a 
flame rising through the lurid vapors disclosed to us 
the ruins of a still, broken flasks, half mangled bodies 
of some of the smaller animals, and my fearful uncle 
lying in the midst. We dragged him to his feet, and 
as he staggered up, he brutally kicked the dead, 
hideous body of an ape, cursing it as the cause of the 
accident, and catching up a heap of old canvas he threw 
it on the fire, leaving us in darkness that could be felt. 
Suffering acutely from the acrid smoke, I clapped my 
hands to my e}^es, stumbling forward, led by my tutor 
to where we heard a severe voice calling, “ Jesse, what 
is the meaning of 'all this dirt and confusion?” The 
speaker held a lighted candle which was seized from 
her without ceremony, and when I gave another pain- 
ful glance I perceived the gaunt old man scrupulously 
examining if all was safe and lifting the body of the 
ape he bent it in and out like a rope, with apparent 
satisfaction. And I caught sight of the same heaps of 
mouldering wares that I had discovered when a child, 
and nearer at hand the white, angry face of my aunt. 

Once in the barren rooms above, the scarred and 
blistered alchemist recognized us for the first time, and 
fairly shook with frenzy and what seemed aiarm. 
Without thanks, he cried out, “ How got you here ? 
Answer me, by what door or way ? And why were 
you in my neighborhood*?” and could scarcely refrain 
I thought, from ordering us from his house. 

“Dear madame,” pleaded my tutor, “you see how 

10 


146 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


Jude is suffering ! please lead us where we may have 
the use of water and napkin.” And to my surprise for 
I had seen her faintly fixing a chilly stare upon him, 
her demeanor changed and almost meekly she turned 
and led us into her kitchen. Such magnetic power had 
the man over almost all persons ! And as if she flut- 
tered feebly and could not resist the unaccustomed 
emotions he wrought within her, and perhaps as a token 
of hospitality she fell to brushing his clothes with 
Spartan vigor, an operation he submitted to with 
Spartan intrepidity. 

As we went along toward home I complained of the 
pain in my eyes, and Mr. Granville kindly took me by 
the arm and led me to Dr. Murray’s office. His 
last neurotic patient, Miss Jude, was just leaving his 
consulting room as I was shown in, and she seemed 
glad at meeting my tutor, with whom she at once be- 
gan some confidential and mysterious conversation re- 
garding stocks in the New York anfl Rondaine R. R. 

^ Dr. Murray was much interested in my account of 
the accident, and seemed no stranger to the brusque 
banker’s chemical experiments. After soothing lotions 
had been applied and my pain relieved, he gave me 
some curious information in regard to the yellow house 
which had so attracted Granville’s attention. 

“ It was formerly the home of the Schancks, ” said 
he, “ for three generations, having been built by old 
Gerardus, the grandfather of Jesse, principally from 
the lumber he recieved in part payment for a cargo of 
slaves he sold in the Carolinas. He had formerly had 
a rival in this business, one Marlowe, a desperate 
giant, who bid fair at one time to outstrip him in 
trade and influence, but he had met with misfortune, 
and by shipwreck became reduced to working as a 
common sailor, before the mast, in the very ship now 


THE CURSE OF MARLOWE. 


147 


owned and run by Schanck. The latter took a fiend- 
ish delight in maltreating him on one of his voyages, 
and Marlowe swore to be revenged on him. He 
aroused the passions of the crew, who were none too 
friendly to their harsh captain, and in the mutiny 
which occurred, he was knocked overboard, during a 
night attack, and was supposed to have been drowned, 
but he escaped by swimming, and secreted himself 
in the vessel. On its arrival in Worcester he gained 
the shore unobserved, and when old Gerardus returned 
home from his settlement with the vessel owners he 
was amazed to find the sailor waiting for him at dusk 
in his own door-yard. A terrible battle occurred but 
Marlowe was worsted, and in dying he cursed his 
enemy to the fourth generation denouncing unheard 
of evils. Stout, godless old 'Gerardus buried his en- 
emy where he fell, and out of his grave grew that 
twisted and leprous giant of a sycamore which you re- 
remarked so well. He was easily acquitted of the crime, 
but it is said, when the slaver drew near his end, 
maudlin and weeping in his cups, he declared the soul 
of Marlowe was in the tree and meant him an injury 
yet. Sailor-like, the Schancks have always been super- 
stitious, and when the son fared ill, and Jesse came 
into the possession, and still the luck did not mend, he 
spared the tree, and sold the property to the late 
Fletcher Beaumont, your maternal grandfather, buying 
the big house adjoining at a great bargain, through con- 
nivance it was sa’id, at sheriffs sale,” 

“ And does the curse hang to it yet ? ” called Gran- 
ville, who, having escorted Miss Jude to her carriage 
had returned in time to hear the story. 

“ I do believe our old alchemist thinks so, for men 
nurse their miasms until they poison at length.” 

“For my part,” laughed my tutor, “I do believe I 


148 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


never had a fear except of ugly women. A right hide- 
ous dismerit in form of man or beast affects me sorely, 
but beauty breeds in me like the sun of spring, awak- 
ening a thousand flowering fancies, a languor and a 
melody that transport me out of myself. And yet I 
have been strangely fascinated by deformity at timeSj 
and have had dreams in which the fiend in the shape 
of a brutish sailor tolled me down into the pit. But 
these wandering vapors have been in and out of many 
a man’s mind before they come darkening in at our 
own, and I seem to have faint recollections of having 
dreamed a hundred years ago, this story about the com- 
bat and the sycamore rearing out of the vanquished 
man’s breast. — By Zeus ! What beauties are those 
driving by in the carriage ! ” And a pleasurable admi- 
ration flamed up in his face, as he hurried to the win- 
dow. 

I looked out but only in time to see a tall greyhound 
going by at a moderate lope, and my heart told me that 
the young ladies from the de Rouville mansion had 
been driven past. I tried to look unconcerned but 
something tell-tale must have wanted covert in my 
face, for Granville looked at me a moment and seemed 
to smile curiously. A servant knocked on the door and 
left a message for Dr. Murray, at which we arose, and 
with friendly courtesies on all sides, we took our de- 
parture. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

CASTLES IN LORRAINE. 

My tutor having little to do at this stage of my affairs, 
when not busy with commercial projects and the exam- 
ination of swift and elegant ships which sometimes de- 


CASTLES IN LOEEAINE. 


149 


lighted him, betook himself to long, solitary rambles, 
from which he frequently returned home late at night, 
and sometimes after a day spent in his room, he would 
sally forth when the household was. retiring taking with 
him one or other of his musical instruments as a com- 
panion. He vouchsafed me no information, but greeted 
me with a sort of sullen politeness at times, and once 
acknowledged that his mind was passing through a 
stage of transformation and that all his schemes were 
at sea. Thus thrust away from him I realized more 
than ever the loneliness of my position at home. 

The college commencement occurred, and I acquitted 
myself most favorably, and was the recipient of many 
stately compliments, and invitations to tedious dinners 
and parties and took part in welcoming the same tire- 
some individuals to our own hospitalities, listening and 
courteous, while my soul was cruelly torn and sunken 
far within me. Incongruities I could not reconcile or 
explain, but which I had for the time lost sight of dur- 
ing the busy years Mr. Granville and my studies had 
engrossed me, now came back to me, and silently 
stalked at my side, shadowy but menacing. 

My mother gave me the impression of one who, rest- 
ing for some time after a long journey, was preparing 
to go away again. She looked up people who formerly 
visited her, wrote letters to absent, almost forgotten 
friends of her youth, sent a large donation to Dr. Mur- 
ray’s hospital, and busied herself with Judge Brief in 
^ bringing to a final settlement many long standing and 
procrastinated affairs. She looked over her ward-robe 
and gave many choice gowns of antique pattern to her 
faithful servants, and sent paintings, books and laces to 
all who had been intimate and loved her. I feared in 
an unreasoning way, sad and cheerless ‘at heart that, all 
this rpust be the effect ot nervous unrest to which I, in 


150 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


some undefinable manner contributed. Not for the 
world would I have intimated this, for I think she 
would have been cruelly wrung, and I mistrusted my 
feelings, having found them uncertain guides in the 
past. 

I truly loved this beautiful soul, and she was cer- 
tainly the most tender-hearted and pious of women. 
Driving with her one day to make one of those calls on 
some obscure and faded people she had known, we' 
came, in the suburbs of the city, upon a cruel carter 
who was belaboring his overworked oxen, and shouting 
harsh oaths. “My good man,” she called gently to 
him, “ do you not know that every blow you strike, 
quickens the pen of the recording angel! ” He let fall 
his whip and gazed after her with a confused face. 

And once I remember to have heard her say to Jesse 
Schanck when he had uttered the inhuman sentiment 
that, “A ship-master at sea should look upon his sailors 
as serfs and dogs, quickening their energies with hard 
usage, and suppressing mutiny with despotism, having 
no fear of the law, which always winks at the captain 
when Jack complains at the bar,” illustrating by say- 
ing, he had thrown a man overboard in irons who re- 
belled against his authority — I remember her saying, 

“ Had you bound him with cobweb he would have 
waited for you all the same, before the judgment seat 
of God.” 

Upon another occasion when this gross man, in a 
sharp, snarling key, had declared that, “ The rich and . 
powerful are wise in that, they only appeal to the law 
when they wish injustice confirmed : ” she asked, “ Do 
you, then, look upon the law as a party to wrong?” 
With a peculiar chuckle he exclaimed, “I look upon it 
as my best friend ! ” I shall never forget the quiet 
triumph that gave a steady lustre to her eyes, as she 


CASTLES IN LORKAINE. 


151 


returned, “You have completely vindicated your 
opinion .” 4 

Her keen replies were never uttered in malice, rather 
they issued forth in a tone of regret, like a dagger in a 
monk’s girdle, never meant for wounding, and it was in 
this spirit she once observed, when Granville cried out 
that, “ Music wrought a sort of madness in him ! ” — 
“ Then there is a want of harmony in your soul.” 

But I sometimes wondered if he did not make its 
sensuous disorder an excuse for unburdening himself 
of things startling and hoarded, which his cold caution 
would never permit him at other times. A startling 
incident shortly occurred, for . riding with him one day 
about the little city, our horses champing the bit, and 
the breeze at the street corners tossing the flecks of 
foam from their mouths, he called my attention to a 
tall dog whose lofty leaps into the air among the bust- 
ling crowds, was attracting the notice of all the pedes- 
trians. It is needless to say that I recognized “Luck,” 
and that I was glad that he did not discover me, for I 
felt his noisy demonstrations would be embarrassing in 
the presence of Mr. Granville. And, as if I feared be 
would divine why, I did not immediately scan the 
vehicles in the street for the one I suspected might bear 
the greyhound’s young mistress. 

“ There’s something uncanny about a dog,” laughed 
he, giving me a side glance, “and in folk-lore we 
always find them the go-between the evil one and his 
agents.” 

“ I never saw one about my Uncle Jesse ! ” I re- 
turned. 

His brow darkened perceptibly. “Sometimes I 
think you have no sense or humor,” he muttered. “If 
I unexpectedly let a little light into your cobwebbed 


152 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


silence, I always find this spectre stalking away into 
your deeper solitudes.” • 

“Why should you feel offended at my reply?” I 
asked in some astonishment. 

He rode on a little way without speaking, only nod- 
ding now and then to the young men of the city, with 
whom he was very popular ; but at last he said, 

“I am a little bit perplexed how to answer you, but, 
without its being any affair of mine, I am not pleased 
that you should menace the good fortune that man will 
one day bring you.” 

And as he said this he glanced sideways at me, a 
purple spot burning duskily in either cheek and his 
voice sounded thick and strange. 

“ Heaven forbid,” I cried. “ I should feel a curse 
came with it. I could imagine my uncle straining in 
his grave to hear the clink of the gold, and groaning at 
every expenditure. I should feel that every piece was 
a fiend that had corrupted men’s palms, or wrung their 
souls in extremities. I should think this one once 
skipped for drink, this for a wager.. Each stained 
piece would seem to have been a murderer’s hire, each 
shining coin, the lure of a thief. To me at the best, 
they would bring a curse — coming from one who hates 
me.” 

“Now, how can such gloom enter your youthful 
soul ? ” he exclaimed. “ To me the gold pieces would 
say, 4 Here’s pleasure for past pain ! we will build 
palaces, and in their marble halls mimic the splendors 
of heaven. We spread the banquet-board, and tune 
the throat of music. We garb you in purple and fine 
linen, and bring art to minister to your desires — 'mak- 
ing men the throned deities of the world ! ”’ 

“ Ah, yes,” I replied, “but think how many millions 
of hands from far out into the centuries have hoarded 


CASTLES IN LORRAINE. 


158 


and dispersed these shining ones ; and how far into the 
ages these coins will go — what miseries they have sown, 
what crimes they shall yet awaken ! 

“ But Jude they do not tell me this. They whisper 
of the magnificence of old lands, and of the joys 
they wrought for hearts long silent, and murmur, “ Life 
is fleeting ! ” and urge my lips to quaff the fullest draught 
while the wine sparkles and the sun delays. I lie here 
on this strand unknown, abject in the eye of day ; 
whatever great thought moving in my brain, like light 
in chaos, would marshall the elements of this world, 
though it should clothe itself in eloquence, would fall 
unheeded on the ears of men. Should I command, 
there is none so slavish as to obey. I lie here naked, 
like a soul divested of its body — the colorless phantom, 
seeing, is unseen ; though of a kingly majesty it can- 
not awaken so much awe as the winds that murmur in 
tall trees. A laborer might breathe it in and out, 
damning it for a miasm in his path ! But let the se- 
cret, almighty powers, blend Caesar with his flesh again, 
and he will conquer the world anew ! 

“ So, Jude, encompass me about with monstrous 
wealth and I could dwarf this race of men to mine for 
me like gnomes, or build like elves a palace in the 
night. Armies I could evoke from dragon’s teeth ; bid 
the wind ever, somewhere puff my navies over the 
deep ; weave my own selfish grandeur warp and woof 
of senate’s brains, for in riches I see power, and prin- 
cipalities, and dominions ! ” 

. “ Should you go on in that way,” I said, “ you will 
end in being as heartless and grasping as Jesse 
Schanck.” 

“ If I ever get the half of his wealth,” replied Gran- 
ville, “ I will make a noise in the world. The sun 


154 


1‘HAttTOM DAYS. 


shall not be the only torch, for there shall be no night 
on the hemisphere when I step abroad.” 

And he repeated with great fire one of his own ver- 
ses : — 


“ Let the mighty genius fling 
Stars, like ducats, down the skies ! 

If he shrink from squandering, 

His wealth is poverty’s disguise ! ” 

And as he said this his form dilated and a stern mind 
glowed through his features like iron at white heat. A 
quiver of fear ran through me*. The man did not seem 
to be of mortal fibre like those around me. An odd 
thought charmed me like a serpent. Why would not 
this man, who confessed so unreservedly to his love for 
money, for the sake of its infinite resources, plot even 
darkly to obtain it ? Confused shapes of men on sin- 
ister designs crept momently through my fancy. I put 
them aside only to have them come again. 

Hooked up at him, his face, was shining haughtily, 
and as if he conversed with a spirit his lips moved, and 
he held origins hand to his airy companion. As if he 
held a goblet into which the other had poured, he 
turned the phantom liquor through his lips, as he ob- 
served my gaze. 

“Believe me!” he smiled, “ it is the most cordial 
and powerful draught in the world. The true Johann- 
isberg. The pent up genius ! ” And when I was a 
long time silent, he cast a proud look at me, as one who 
felt himself misinterpreted, and would not deign to 
surrender his dignity by removing a single prejudicial 
thought. 1 liked him the better for that. 

We rode on in silence. That I might one day be- 
come the heir of this atrocious miser, had become a 
frightful thought, and I was chilled and alarmed by it, 


CASTLES IK LORRAINE. 


155 


but presently I was comforted in thinking how little 
occasion I had to dread any favor from one who had 
always evinced such enmity towards me. As we turned 
into Atlantic street we came full upon Jesse Schanck 
standing at the corner, and talking with his usual ve- 
hemence to a coterie of sea-faring men, who must have 
communicated some daring intelligence for a frenzied 
smile ran crackling through his features, and he seized 
a glass and scanned the horizon, with an oath of 
triumph. An uneasy scowl gathered upon Granville’s 
face, as he too, turned in his saddle and gazed out to 
sea. A whisper passed among the mariners, and the 
grim, uncouth banker lifted his ruggedface and struck 
his eyes into Granville as they had been eagle’s beaks, 
and the latter stopped short and returned the look with 
coldness, and it seemed to me with rising hatred. Re- 
coiling from this duel of eyes I set spurs to my horse 
and darted away. 

Getting into the thick of traffic, for we were now on 
the street fronting the wharves, at which ships were 
discharging or unloading their cargoes, I was forced to 
draw rein, when Mr. Granville came slowly up. 

I saw him look down on all this stir, and out at the 
wallowing vessels in the harbor, with an unwonted 
glow upon his face, as though his rencontre, and the ac- 
tivity about us awoke something emulous in his brain. 
His bold eyes shot out and in, as if he both speculated 
and counted his resources. I rode on a little way in 
advance until we had extricated ourselves from the 
crowd when I turned to speak. My companion was, 
at that moment regarding a powerful looking hunch- 
back, whose evil countenance would have attracted and 
repelled any one. The man was in the garb of a sailor, 
with a coarse woolen blouse wrinkling over the enor- 
mous hump on his back. He had been drinking, and 


156 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


seemed by the working of his face to be reviling some 
one as he walked along. Suddenly he looked up and 
perceiving iny companion he stood stock still, beating 
his brow with his knotted hand, as if confounded. An 
indescribable loathing, akin to fear, gathered upon 
Granville’s face, at which I did not wonder, knowing 
his sensuous taste for beauty. “ My God ! my dream ! ” 
he muttered. He plucked his horse excitedly by the 
reins, causing the spirited beast to rear and plunge, and 
disappear with his rider through an opening in a wall 
down upon a bit of shore between the docks. 

Not daring to make the leap, I turned and galloped 
back for a hundred yards, until I found a street de- 
scending to the harbor. When I reached the spot, 
Granville was lying senseless upon the. sand, and the 
sailor, who had taken the wall, had dropped on his 
knees by his side, and had thrust the long hair back 
and was examining the scar on his head with a look 
of fiendish satisfaction. He leaned over and listened 
at his chest, and as if he heard that patient servant, 
the heart, laboring in his cavern, he nodded affirm- 
atively, and whispered in Granville’s ear. I thought of 
the toad whispering in the slumberous ear of Eve, 
and called out sharply to the man, and motioned 
him away. He got up heavily, laughing harshly, 
and climbed the wall like a huge animal and disap- 
peared. 

Granville stirred and sat up, as I hastily dismounted 
to assist him. He declared he was not injured, but he 
shuddered and looked strange, and paid little heed to 
my questions. I offered to help him to his horse but 
h£ thrust me aside brusquely, and sprang with some 
vigor into the saddle, where he sat quietly for a whole 
minute, before he recollected himself. During our ride 
home he was distraught, grinding his teeth, and muG 


CASTLES TN LORRAINE. 


157 


tering, until I became seriously alarmed lest he had re- 
ceived'Some shock to the brain. He refused to see Dr. 
Murray, when I expressed a desire to send for him, and 
tossing his reins to a servant he went moodily to his 
room. 

He declined any attention during the afternoon, but 
when he had ordered wine, and had dispatched his sup- 
per alone, I sought him out. Before I reached his 
door I heard him playing a very old military march, 
full of thrilling passages as of soldiers rushing in battle, 
with curdling cries of wounded foemen, and an ever 
recurring clangorous refrain that called them and 
sped them to the death. It seemed to wake the warrior 
in me, for I found my blood coursing and my breath 
coming short and quick, with fancies of mediaeval bat- 
tle-fields picturing themselves in my brain. The music 
ceased as I opened the door, but Mr. Granville did not 
speak. It was as though the bold harmony had set him 
on to some stern resolve. I was glad to see he had not 
drunken deeply. 

“ Do you know,” he began abruptly, “ I have the 
terrible foreboding that I have no long time to live ? 
That I shall meet with a violent death ! Foolish, isn’t 
.it ? And yet I have lost a deal of time, and sunk my- 
self by my own dalliance to levels from which I cannot 
escape. Was I for a moment senseless after my fall ? 
I remember the flying leap my horse took over the par- 
apet, and how the sea, and the. crowded shipping and 
the sailors flared on me like a red light, and went out 
— but in^the next instant you were offering to help me 
to my feet. There could not have been more than 
a second lost to me — and yet I have the impression 
burned into me that the foul fiend in the shape of 
that uncouth wretch knelt at my side and whispered a 
hideous thing. 


158 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


And again lie lapsed into silence. I felt it was better 
not to tell him of the episode which he thus dimly sur- 
mised but sought to cheer him with comforting words, 
but he did not seem to hear me. Deep was he brood- 
ing, feeding upon himself, his thoughts slaking at the 
inner pools, and once he looked up at me mournfully, 
as though he gazed out of a lonely mind. 

“I wish I could talk to you,” he resumed, “could 
tell you of what has been long in my thoughts. If you 
could read my face as it is said the cherubim do, or if I 
could impart to your sense mysteries and passions in 
the ravishing strains of music, while my tongue hung 
mute like a hermit sleeping in his cell ! But to draw 
my meaning forth in cold language would never win 
your sympathy. I fear the shock to your finer sensi- 
bilities — though I have tried an hundred times to win 
your attention with subtleties and hints, and put you 
on your guard for what must come. I fear for you for 
I have loved you, in my way. The troubled melancholy 
of your face has haunted me like a reproach, when I 
have turned from you wi*b°"t breathing a syllable of 
, that for which I sought your presence. An hundred 
times I have resolved to leave you, to go away from 
Worcester entirely, and seek my fortune in lands un- 
known. But the tempter has whispered me and turned 
me back. Here, it seems to me, is a prodigal wealth 
awaiting me, but to reach it I must prostitute my spirit 
in your eyes, while at the same time I wound you and 
leave a venom in your wounds ” 

“In God’s name ! ” I cried, “ what fell purpose is it 
you thus ramble about ? ” 

And starting excitedly forward, I dragged down from 
the mantle-piece on which I had been leaning, a pile of 
old letters, and among them, the one with the foreign 
stamps which he had left unopened for several months. 


CASTLES lit LOLeAINE. 


159 


He picked it up, and turned it absently in his hand, 
breaking the seals at length, when out fell a banker’s 
draft for a large sum. He read the letter hurriedly, 
and threw it a crumpled mass, into the empty fire-place, 
while he clutched the bank note and thrust it into his 
pocket. 

“ The die is again cast,” he shouted in a tone of re- 
lief, “ and I shall make an assault elsewhere. By St. 
Laurient, there are more towers than one to be attacked 
in. fQrtune’s castle ! ” 

By a sudden revulsion of feeling I had well nigh 
convinced myself that this scene was part of a fantastic 
scheme to cure me of darksome vain imaginings, — the 
mysticism which was closing me in. But now, that sin- 
gular oath ! 

He looked at me with a sort of bitter smile, as if 
comprehending the cause of my curious anxiety. 

“ It is an oath how fast he spoke ! — “ I learned in 
Paris from a merry gentleman. It was ever on his lips. 
Like me he was in waiting at the door of fortune. He 
told me of an old baronial castle in Lorraine, farms, 
vineyards and villages hard on the sparkling Moselle, 
all going to decay, while the great lord of it, with 
twenty titles at his back, wandered far from home to 
the ruin of his people. He attributed it to the German 
mysticism which runs through all the hereditary pro- 
prietors of Alsace and Lorraine. The theft of these 
provinces by Louis XIV, has not changed the ancient 
characteristics these five or six generations. They will 
not become French.” 

He paused as if he were done. “ For God’s sake,” I 
cried, “ tell me all that you know ! ” 

“ It is little I have to tell. But this I know — were I 
in your place, and might lawfully choose between a 
castle in Lorraine, with farms and villages on the spark- 


160 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


ling Moselle, on the one side, and Jesse Schanck’s 
millions on the other, I would cleave to the new and 
let the old world go.” 

“ You mock me ! *Oh, if you have aught to impart, 
do not withhold it from me ! ” 

He looked at me with eyes as unmeaning and yet as 
haunting as a portrait’s ! A new sensation that I had 
never known before, came hotly into my veins, as if my 
heart poured forth a molten flood of passion, and if I 
had had in my hand the sword with which, of late, I 
had more than once defeated him in our fencing bouts, 
T should have gone far to have used it upon him in 
righteous wrath. For all my suspicions came trooping 
back, and all the painful conjectures, the misgivings, 
the tantalizing influences, which I had resolutely out- 
lived, or had hidden away. 

“ Who are you ? ” I imperiously demanded. “ Why 
do you put on mystery like a wizard ? If you know 
aught that concerns me, it is my property and not 
yours. Are you trading upon it ? ” 

At once he was himself, and turned haughtily upon 
me, saying, “ It is not to be expected but you should 
wax tart, growing so long in the shadows — but how 
would you have me piece the solid world to the vapor- 
ing of your fancies ? I do not even know your dreams, 
but you would have me stalk with all my living bulk 
into them, and mime and cavort to their minstrelsy. 
Come, come, bethink you !, If I have said a thing that 
even trenches on their perilous brink, it was only a cast 
of fortune.” 


IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 


161 



CHAPTER XIX. 

IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 

Baffled indignation kept me awake a good part 
of the night, and revolve the matter as I would, I 
could come to no solution of the difficulties which tor- 
mented my life. When I had breakfasted alone, and 
heard no stir of companionship anywhere in the great 
house, I stood irresolute for a moment at the foot of 
the stairway, and then ascended two flights, and went 
down the long hall of the wing in one of the rooms of 
which Granville was domiciled. I knocked on his door, 
but received no answer, so, fearing that he had left the 
house I turned the knob and entered his chamber. His 
trunk was in the middle of the floor, illy packed with 
clothing, books and manuscripts, the lid lying open, 
and the carpet littered with miscellaneous artices of 
apparel and objects of virtu. On the table, in a jum- 
ble of bottles and wine-glasses, lay his swords and 
musical instruments, and the open fireplace was half- 
filled with old letters and papers into which a candle 
had been sleepily thrust, and had gone out, smothered 
in its own tallow. There was a heavy odor of wine 
in the room, and on the bed, but half disrobed, lay the 
master, in a stupor, of which sleep seemed but the 
vapor. 

With a shudder, I threw open the windows, and 
silently regarded him. Under the present conditions 
his inner soul came more to the front, the relaxation of 
his features permitting deeper characteristics to exhibit 
themselves to my eyes. He looked much older than 
11 


162 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


he seemed when awake, and when marshalling his fac- 
ulties to the leadership of some thought or accomplish- 
ment. I was startled to observe that his hair was of a 
bluish-gray, as from the effect of dyes used to conceal 
the approach of age. Across the high dome of his 
forehead, one saw no line to mar the intellectual force, 
but over the full eyes, so prominent that the lids showed 
a filmy seam where they stretched but could not meet, 
and along the aquiline nose, were net-works of the 
tempter, through which a certain cruelty, a coldness, 
and indifference, an unhallowed ambition, looked out; 
while the lips were full and sensuous, and betokened a 
warmth and kindness which was only weakness, I felt, 
when I again regarded the central portion of his face. 

. So many contradictions betokened a restless spirit, and 
one at war with itself, but the baser elements, as in 
every time of peril in such a nature, were coming to 
the front. 

I reflected upon the changes that had occured since I 
had known him — how the gayety of his disposition had 
slowly become eclipsed, his generosity that was once so 
lightly displayed had now grown spasmodic, his wide 
acquaintance was narrowed to a few, his bon-homme 
that was wont to set the tables on a roar, was now 
gnarled in his sullen humors, the inherent neatness 
which extended to all his belongings was now become 
a gloss that shone on little besides his apparel. Sensual 
indulgence was taking the place of his love for art for 
art’s sake. Where he had once toyed with wine he 
now drank a bottle at a sitting. Music that once 
drained him of his ever-buoyant spirit, and was an ex- 
pression of careless joy, and the perilous longing in the 
soul of man, now issued from him in unlawful harmon- 
ies, poisonous romances of sound, spirits that went out 
and in to bind and betray. 


IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 163 

While I mused and fastened my soul upon his face, • 
he stirred and muttered to himself. “ Money ! I must 
have it ! I must rip the plethora of his vaults, and let it 
out in gouts, not drops, of coin ! ” 

I leaned over and whispered in his ear “ Granville ! 
Granville ! ” He shuddered and made a stabbing motion 
at his heart, and drawing his breath in with a shriek, 
he half rose, and fell back, his face convulsed with 
pain and horror. In the hand with which he struck 
himself I noticed he held crumpled the bank draft, and 
I wondered if it was in any way connected with his 
dream — and if the dream was again of the sailor, and 
* violent death. I looked at his rich lips quivering like 
a child's, and at the ruined ‘grandeur of his face and 
with a piteous sigh I turned and left him. 

If he was preparing to leave the house, why let him ' 
go in peace. What could I gain with taxing' him with 
wrong, what secret could I wring from him ? Slowly I 
went away. 

My mother was walking in the garden, lingering by 
the mid-summer flowers, and looking at the orchard 
trees, the swinging nests of the orioleS, stopping to 
observe the flight of some white pigeons, and anon 
pouring upon the ample house and its giant sentinels, 
as if she were taking a last look before a long depart- 
ure. She observed me at the window and beckoned me 
to come to her- I ' found two little negro children 
clinging to her skirts, with startled innocent eyes ex- 
panded, as I came near. She plucked them handfuls of 
white lillies and sent them gently away. 

“You do not look well, my child,” she said, “these 
scenes and your long studies have tired your heart. 
You should see more of the world. It calls right 
charmingly to the young. You must travel. You 
must see men and gain the thoughts that never lie in 


164 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


books. Professor Synta is going back to the continent 
to revisit his old home, and you shall make the grand 
tour with him. It is not right that we should detain 
your old tutor any longer. He has done well by you, 
but it is not neceassry he should remain. I will give 
him an honorarium, but we will not hasten him, that 
would be ungentle even to an unwelcome, tedious 
guest, he shall go at his leisure.” 

I stopped short, my heart beating up into my throat. 
She looked so kind, so sensible, so sweet and beautiful. 
I felt I should tell her everything — my blasted friend- 
ship for my.tutor, the strange fears he had inspired me 
with — my secret, sacred liking for Marie, the unrecorded 
visits I had made — the subtle atmosphere of doubt that 
surrounded my life — yes, I would tell it all to her ! 
Her arm was about my neck, my own was trembling at 
her waist. I drew her into the arbor, saying, “ How 
dear you are to me, my mother ! Let us talk unre- 
servedly. Let me unburden my sorely troubled heart. 
Let me sit at your feet like a child, while I pour out 
my soul to you.” And I looked into her face with 
passionate yearning for love and sympathy, but I was 
hushed and wounded by the spasm of fear and pain 
that crossed her countenance. She caught me to her 
heart a long time but neither of us uttered a word. 
While we sat there in this silence, a little colored child 
came to say that Judge Brief had come on business, 
and she arose and kissed me on'my forehead and went 
away. 

I sat there all cold and disconsolate. Whither should 
I go in this vast comfortless world ? I thought of 
Marie. And yet I had the feeling of cruel neglect ex- 
tended to me on her part. I had no claim upon her 
generosity — if she had clean forgotten me, had I not 
seen enough of the world to know how little we are to 


IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 


165 


each other out of the brief combinations in which for* 
tune throws us ? And yet she was so frank, so cordial, 
so sincere ! I was shamed in entertaining the shadow of 
distrust. There must be some reason in her tedious 
delay. I determined to go boldly to her and make my 
inquiries face to face. Why should she have me wait 
until I could meet her uncle ? Much as I had longed 
to see him, what could it profit me? 

Now at the verge of manhood, much that had seemed 
so dark and weighty to me in my childhood, was not 
without capable explanation, though I shrunk from of- 
fering it to myself. Should I continue to entertain 
these boyish myths? — expecting from every re-en- 
counter with the world some wonderful solution of old 
dreams ? To this charming gentleman with his many 
honors and accomplishments, I would *seem crude in 
my sadness and inexperience. I could not hope to in- 
terest him, and if I unguardedly let fall the dim asso- 
ciation he had long held in my mind with Tom, might 
he not look upon me as wild and wandering in my 
wits? and even scruple as to my association with his 
niece ? 

On my way I overtook Dr. Murray ambling slowly 
in his high gig, his body shaken from side to side as the 
huge wheels plunged into ruts now and then. His 
head was bent, down in caverns of thought, and he 
scarcely withdrew his eyes long enough to observe me 
vaguely, and absently respond to my greeting, as I rode 
easily past him. 

“Jude! Jude!” he called, a minute later, touching 
his amiable old horse smartly with his whip. “Were 
you going to the De Rouville’s ? ” 

“ I am on my way there,” I replied. “ Can you tell 
me anything regarding them ? ” 

“ Why, yes : ” he responded, not without embarrass- 


166 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


ment, I thought, “ the young lady gave me a message 
for you sometime ago, but thanks to my absent-minded- 
ness it is now useless. They hav6 gone away.” 

Swallowing my chagrin, I spoke calmly. “ What 
was the message ? ” 

u Let me see — Oh, you were to be told that DeRou- 
ville continued ill and that it was thought best he 
should have a change of residence — in short a long sea- 
voyage.” And here his eyes rested in mine, and a look 
of contrition whitened in his face, while he ended in a 
lower key, “The family were to go with him, but be- 
fore their removal you were asked to visit them.” 

I got off my horse, and throwing my arm over its 
neck 1 leaned against it heavily, the most miserable 
creature alive. In that one moment I knew the 
strength of my attachment for Marie, and I felt I must 
die with the violence and hopelessness of my passion. 
I seemed in a hollow globe with the world receding far 
off in a confusion of vaporous rings, and the remorse- 
ful face of this cruelly forgetful old man daguerreotyped 
everywhere on the elements and streaming past me. I 
had no thought, but my mind mechanically repeated 
over and over. “ Gone ! Marie, gone ! gone ! ” Then, 
I knew, all beauty and love had gone out of the world, 
and if I could not find her, life had visited me in vain. 
Better to have remained yet untenanted, like the dust 
on which I stood. 

“ My poor bo}^ ! ” a voice was pleading at my ear : it 
was the old physician’s. He had descended from his 
chaise and was supporting me. Little did I compre- 
hend of all he said, but when he paused, I returned to 
my loss. 

“ Oh, sir ! have they been long gone ? ” 

“ It may be a month.” 

I closed my eyes, for all objects were in a vertiginous 


IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 


167 


whirl. And then with a mighty effort, I commanded 
my feelings, gently removing the old man’s arm, and 
begging him to remount into his chaise, while I calmly 
inquired into the particulars of their departure. “ It 
seemed better,” he began, u that you should not visit 
the house for a time, as in some way your presence had 
a deleterious effect upon the system of our patient.” 

“ Why, I do not know that I ever saw him in my 
life, so how could that be ? ” 

“ Some men are born with an organization so fine, 
and so delicately sensitive that, they need not gross 
corporeal contact to determine what is good or evil for 
them, but they reach outside of themselves and note 
influences far off through atmospheres unknown to 
others.” 

“ But what is there about me, who believe myself 
artless and sincere in all my dealings, that could affect 
an honest soul unhappily ? ” and here I thought of 
Jesse Sehanck. 

“ May you not be the unconscious medium of an- 
other ? ” 

“ Explain.” 

“ A little while ago you said that you did not know 
that you had ever seen DeRouville in your life, do you 
suspect that you have ever seen him ? If so, when ? 
under what circumstances ? ” 

I was silent, for I could not confess to that weird 
scerle among the broken tombs in a moony wilderness 
so long ago. It was too improbable, too elfish, to be 
believed by staid and practical men. It was one of 
those rareities to be known in secret and never to be 
divulged. 

Having waited a moment, he continued, “ It is the 
fortune of the great to be surrounded by a variety of 
minds in different men, each conniving for selfish inter- 


168 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


ests, the which, if their patron be a man of cold ambi- 
tion, their scheming shuts him into a closer self con- 
tainment, and he profits by their importunity. But if 
he be a kindly natured, disappointed man, one broken 
by the strokes of adversity, though still powerful, these 
artful courtiers shred his sympathies between them, as 
the thieving hours do the genial bloom of youth, until 
he is harrassed to his downfall ” 

“ I do not understand one word of what you are say- 
ing.” 

“ Neither do I,” and he gave a dreary laugh. “ In 
my perplexity I put on the strangest disguises ! How 
can I tell you of what you must not know ? I thought 
if I could put a hint into your mind it would develop 
its meaning in time.” 

“ Why not speak plainly to me, bluntly if need be ? ” 

“Would I be justified? I would not wound you, 
neither would I forfeit your esteem, for, childless old 
man as I am, I love you as if you were my own son. 
Had I but known, or even suspected your love for the 
young lady, I might have relented, or — Does she 
know of your attachment ? ” 

“ I never understood it myself until this hour.” 

“ So much the better. Live it down.” 

This was too much. I turned upon him a concen- 
trated glare. “ You have wronged me and I cannot 
clearly set the evidence forth, for you tangle the clues 
in riddles. You have never yet loved — and yet you 
bid me live it down ! ” 

“ Once I loved ; ” he whispered, like one at the con- 
fessional of his youth. 

“ And did you live it down ? ” . 

“ One at last remembers the dead without agony ” 

“ But the living ? ” 

He turned his head away. To see the grief of others 


IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 


169 


softens our own. I came to the chaise and took his 
cool, aged hand in mine. He looked at me sorrowfully, 
like one who has renounced so much in his time that 
he grieved only at the renunciation I must make in 
turn. 

“ There are so many things that perplex me ; ” I said, 
“ tell me if I am what I have been taught to believe I 
am?” 

“ What can you mean ? ” 

“ Have you known me from my birth ? ” 

He shook his head gravely, and muttered, as if he 
suspected that I had become distraught from grief, and 
said, “ You have the loveliest of mothers, but your in- 
fancy and childhood were unfortunate in coming under 
the spell of that wandering man, who seemed to be- 
witch us all. If his wizard eyes and fairy tales have 
mismatched your spirit with your surroundings, dismiss 
the vain imaginings. You have sufficient to elevate 
you above the average youth of the city, and in time 
you will become possessor of unlimited means, enough 
to carry you into whatever spheres you elect, — what 
would 'you more ? ” 

We were outside the city, near the sea, upon a road 
not greatly frequented, but occasional travelers passed 
us, and interrupted our discourse, and sometimes they 
turned and gazed at us curiously, so. -that by mutual 
consent we rode on a little distance before we spoke 
again. On my part the logic of events had argued dif- 
ferently from what the old doctor had imparted, and I 
was painfully engaged in reconciling the differences, 
though ever and anon waking up the cause of the grief 
that stung so closely into my heart. Presently we ar- 
rived at a place where a road so well known to me 
branched off through the little park. Here I stopped, 


170 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


not daring to go further, old memories filling me to the 
rim with their delicious poisons. 

The companionable horse of the physician also 
stopped. Without raising my eyes, I asked, “ Have 
they gone away for a long time ? ” 

“ That I can not tell, for the mood of our patient has 
been capricious, but we thought his cure lay in his own 
land. And he may never return.” 

“ Oh, sir, I never knew how corrosive were, calm 
words’Tbefore. My heart feels blasted, and your unim- 
passioned face tells me I must have no hope. Every 
wounded one suffers alone. By what right do you con- 
sent to my fate, putting no charge upon your memory, 
forgetting, as if it were*your duty ? ” 

“ Why will you wring from me what, I had hoped, 
need never be, revealed ? De Rouville is the last of an 
old house, titled in his own country, but with proud 
simplicity sinking his rank, and pleased in being a plain 
republican here. He hoards within himself all the 
traditions of a great past, and the historic blood of 
generations courses within him, nourishing fantasies of 
old ambitions, but also evoking melancholies which 
have long slumbered in sires departed, just as an expir- 
ing taper flashes a romantic ray aloft, then sinks to the 
socket and trooping shadows come like Lapland witches. 
He knows his infirmities and resolutely combats them, 
but there is a long tide behind the* billows that crowd 
him under. His physician keeps ward over him and 
skillfully detects whatever influences become prejudi- 
cial to him. For three generations the line has become 
so attenuated that only one heir has saved it from ex- 
tinction in each. Now there is none to follow, and De 
Rouville lias adopted his neice, who already has be- 
trothed herself to one he has chosen for her husband. 


THE OLD MERCHANT^ STORY. 17 1 

She loves her uncle implicitly and will not break her 
troth.’’ 

“ This, then, is why you — ” I could not complete 
my sentence. My tongue clove to the roof of my 
mouth. But even in that moment of deepest gloom, so 
rebellious is the heart of man, I swore an oath that in 
no long time I would go over the seas to find her. 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE OLD MERCHANT’S STORY. 

Individual sorrow can so darken a man’s eyes 
that, even sunlight 'will have something funereal 
about it and appear to fall through sable curtains, 
and the tincture of his grief, he will fancy,* is dis- 
tilled softly in all men’s minds. That is, if the heart 
is not rebellious and swelling against the cold and 
unimpassioned fates., for at such times we catch too well 
the joyful murmur of the living, and note the molten 
'day thick gilded on the world, as if a personal insult 
were meant by the deities, and are fain to breathe 
our souls in curses and be gone. And to me, so long 
schooled under mysteries, it might have been forgiven 
if I had yielded to-the dark undercurrent, whose vapors 
of grewsome fear and evil forebodings at times rise 
up in all men and beseige the towers of thought. 
But instead, I almost wondered at myself to feel a 
growing courage in my mind. As I walked along the 
shore toward home I found a subtler meaning in the 
waves that, crowding, hoarsely about the piers lifted 
the nodding ships and dropped them momently into 
the slough of the deep. They were calling to adven- 
turous souls. 


172 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


Yes, surely, it was better to travel. This city was 
but a dot on the map of the world. I would see strange 
lands. I would loose myself of these cerements of' 
despair. I would find my love in some golden corner 
of the day, and she would read my heart in my face, 
and our souls would mingle as one. Twenty times I 
took out my watch and chided the lazy, creeping time. 
The sun, unmoving, dissolved in transplendent glory in 
the sky. I seemed to have entered at once into an 
eternal hour in which nothing was beginning nor end- 
ing. 

Granville passed me, in new raiment, his face shining 
like Prince Hal’s, and about him crowded idle, gay fel- 
lows, the hangers-on to the skirts of good society — evi- 
dently his money was going fast. Two of them bore a 
hamper of provisions and wine, and one obsequiously 
carried the host’s violin. Two ladies, now barely rec- 
ognized by the tolerant of the town, followed in a 
carriage, their handsome eyes looking daringly out, 
while Granville waved his hand in royal good-fellow- 
ship, last night forgotten, and bade me accompany them 
to the boat, which gay with streamers was prancing 
like a courser impatient to be gone. 

I stopped a moment to observe the prodigal, my 
heart relenting in the summer of his gay humor. The 
party embarked, the sails ruffled in the wind, music 
mingled with laughter — they were’ gone. From the 
direction in which the pilot headed his dancing craft I 
inferred they meant to board a steamer which lay in 
the offing. 

“ They’ll get small satisfaction there,” observed a 
bitter looking mariner, “ for the sheriff has siezed the 
ship in the name of Jesse Schanck, and it will belong 
to his navy soon, unless Job Creep advances the money 
for the bills.” 


THE OLD MERCHANT’S STORY. 


173 


“ And that he can’t well do,” added a weather- 
beaten man, “ for he’s tied up now, its whispered, in 
one of these new-fangled railroads.” 

“Was this Granville part owner of the steamer ? ” 
inquired an anxious gruff voice. 

I turned to look and felt a disagreeable sensation in 
finding it was the hunch-back sailor. When he was 
informed that Granville . held stock on borrowed cap- 
ital, and that it was his mismanagement in the affair 
that had precipitated the ruin, his countenance exhibited 
much satisfaction. 

“ I hope it won’t make enmity between the young 
fellow and Schanck,” he growled pleasantly, at which 
the crowd laughed derisively, as though the matter 
was too trifling to be considered. 

I sauntered slowly onward, purposely seeking the 
busiest thoroughfare, and breasting the tide of human-, 
ity with a zest foreign to my nature, the motley 
stream laving my wounds and reviving my soul. All 
at once I noticed a little a red flag which hung out 
over the pavement, bearing in dingy white letters the 
legend, 

JOB CREEP, 

! SHIP CHANDLER. *. 

The old man had ever had a kindly way about him, 
and a pleasant word for me, so feeling it a sort of duty, 
before leaving Worcester, I inquired for him of a 
greasy porter at the door. I was conducted through 
reeking barrels of molasses, pork, salt-fish, beef, and 
oil, under hams, in their yellow wrappers, hanging 
from the black ceiling, and great bunches of tallow 


174 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


candles, and finally down an avenue of dried-cod-fish 
to the door of the little counting room, further than 
which, the porter durst not go. Knocking, myself, on 
the door, which traditionally was of glass, though now 
veneered with rime and cobweb, it was opened for me 
by that decrepit ghost, the book-keeper, who stared 
first at my rich dress, and then at my sombre features, 
as if he were undetermined as to which world he should 
assign me. But Mr. Creep slowly risiftg from the 
perusal of a pile of bills took off his glasses and wip- 
ing them with his red bandana handkerchief, with a 
side-wise, crab -like motion, approached me, faintly 
smiling. Then putting on his glasses first, and return- 
ing his red bandana to his packet, he greeted me with 
a sort of gentle stateliness, and inquired for my father 
and mother. 

The book-keeper had gone back to his desk where he 
was evidently in the throes of settlement with two or 
three stout weather-beaten men, captains of some of 
the sailing craft that swung to and fro in the harbor, 
from whence the breezes blew whiffs of salt and mur- 
mur of surges. The mariners had on heavy coats but- 
toned up with tremendous brass buttons, although the 
season was far on in summer, and the ready oaths that 
followed the book keeper’s pen were like the devilish 
stickle -back monsters that rise behind the oar and 
wallow in foreign waters. 

The old merchant bowing his excuses, in an almost 
courtly manner to these men, took me into his inner 
office, saying, “I am glad, Jude — what a pretty name 
you have ! — I am glad you have stepped in to see me, 
for I feel I want to say to you something that may 
concern you hereafter. You haven’t come on any 
•message from your father? No? All’s the better. 
Nor from your mother ? I almost wish you had. 


THE OLD MERCHANT’S STORY. • 175 

What a fine lad you have grown to be ! And yet you 
haven’t got the bloom about you I’d like to see — be- 
like it is the fishing in the deep waters of the books, so 
long, that gives you that far-away look in your eyes, 
and strains them around with the black circles. You 
don’t look like the Rulands — they were always brisk, 
pretty fellows in their youth, full of effervescence, 
confident, but vapid and capricious. They always re- 
mind me of those flowers that come so early in spring 
that they shame the awkward stalks and branches that 
as yet show no buds, but themselves present nothing but 
withered petals and yellow leaves when the summer 
comes .glowing in for a long season. Now you have 
taken most, after your mother’s family, the Beaumonts, 
and look as though you would bloom late into the fall 
when the proper day comes to burst your flower into 
its fullness. Ah, well ! excuse my florid manner of 
speech. I think your name somehow led me into it. 
Jude — Jude ! ” 

And here the faint after bloom of the rose in autumn 
came into the old gentleman’s cheeks, -and brooding on 
the summers he had known, he relapsed into a long si- 
lence. After awhile I reminded him that he had said 
he had something to impart to me that might concern 
me hereafter. 

“ Ah, yes, certainly ! ” he returned, doubtfully, as if 
from a long way off. “ Ah, yes ; your mother looks 
finely — she blooms on serenely, but your father has 
faded, faded. How charming was Miss Jude at that 
famous dinner at your house — she seemed to me as a 
stream that is all a-sparkle, and shaking out little flames 
of light, as it runs and returns in its little winding 
channel.” 

Here he fell off to musing again, but presently arose, 
smiling faintly, and going to a small cupboard, took 


176 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


out a slim decanter and two thin glasses, in each of 
which he poured a thimblefull of some rare wine, which 
made a smell as if of ripe vineyards and flowers, and 
handing me one, with great solemnity I proposed, “ Miss 
Jude — gilt sunshine, music's hidden meaning ! The 
man who wins her has a talisman against fate I ” 

We drank the toast standing, but its ludicrous face 
had nearly betrayed me into laughter, for I thought of 
the frivolous antique maiden lady, with her false com- 
plexion, her borrowed curls, her vague eyes, her re- 
dundant flounces, her aimless sallies of speech; and of 
this erect old figure in small clothes, with cue and pow- 
dered front, wrinkled about the eyes, but. smooth 
shaven, with a rose in either cheek, smitten at heart 
and drinking her health! 

‘•Why don’t you marry her, Mr, Creep? ” I boldly 
questioned, looking at him with serious eyes. 

The old gentleman's hand trembled and he nearly 
dropped his glass. He filled it with some villainous 
grog out of a black bottle. “ That uncle of yours is 
an atrocious beast ! ” he muttered with a sneer, “ Here’s 
to him ! ” and he threw the liquor into a black corner, 
put the glasses and- the slim' decanter away, and seating 
himself, began, in some heat to speak of my Uncle 
Jesse. 

“ Did you notice that dastardly fling he once gave, to 
my very polite remark as to skeletons ? No gentleman 
would have done that, and in the presence of ladies ! But 
even Jesse Schanck’s best friend, whoever that maybe, 
and I should like to see him, though my eyes are dim 
for peering through prison grates, would ever accuse 
him of gentility. There’s many a blac.k report about 
him, that slips, in, in the undercurrent of men’s talk. 
You needn’t start lad. You’re loyal to your blood, but 
there’s no consanguinity here. Ay, there’s many a 


THE OLD MERCHANT’S STORY. * 177 

rt flying about him ! Men whisper that if 
some one else had his dues, Jesse Schanck would be 
stripped so bare of his acres and his gold that there 
wouldn’t be a rag between him and felony. And there’s 
a worse thing said of him — but of that I don’t know, 
so I’ll say nothing about it.” 

“ What has set men’s tongues wagging at this late 
day? was he not always as he is now ? ” 

“ He was, indeed, ever of an avaricious mind, but 
thirty years ago he was doing usurious business in a 
small way, lending a few dollars at ruinous rates, here 
and there, and buying at forced sales, for he was hand 
in glove with such small ware as sheriffs and squires, 
and men rarely mentioned him without a shrug, but he 
might have gone on his life-time without accumulating 
any great estate, and have died without leaving a very 
execrable name as an inheritance to his son, when that 
boy, a bright little fellow enough, I remember, was 
stolen from him by some sailors and he never saw him 
again. 

44 It was said the sailors were smugglers who had 
been fitted out by Schanck, and he had reaped a good 
harvest from them on two or three occasions, but he 
ground them, till from their ill-gotten gains they de- 
rived scarcely common wages, so they determined to 
trick him, and selling their next venture, both ship and 
cargo on another coast, they came back with a pitiful 
story of wreck and pillage, and how they had barely 
escaped with their lives. 

44 At first Jesse Schanck was disposed to believe 
them, though bitterly upraiding his losses and their 
want of seamanship. But eventually he got a hint of 
the affair from one of the sailors, and as the ship had 
sailed from Bordeaux witft legitimate papers made out 
to the port of New York, he pretended the cargo was 
12 



178 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


meant for that place, and arrested captain and crew on 
a charge of piracy, using the apostate as his proof. In 
the trial it went hard with these men, and they were 
like to have suffered the severest penalties, for though 
they swore to the past smuggling in which Jesse 
Schanck was implicated, it was made to appear that 
this was but a counter-charge falsely made by desperate 
men, and could not affect the present action, but Judge 
Brief must have borne it in mind, knowing the charac- 
ter of the accuser, for he gave the criminals the short- 
est term of imprisonment the law would permit. When 
they were being removed from the court-room, their 
captain, one Marlowe, a burly, dark, wicked man, shook 
his clinched fist at Jesse Schanck, and cried out, “ Be- 
ware from this day, infamous scoundrel ! A terrible 
thing will happen to you before a month is gone ! ” 
And sure enough, before a month had passed, Marlowe 
broke jail, and Schank’s little boy, then three years old, 
was mysteriously spirited away, and despite of all 
search he was never seen again. The father was terri- 
bly smitten by this disaster, and I think never recov- 
ered from it, while the mother, never of an ardent na- 
ture, faded quite away into the coldest of barren 
lives.” 

“Was there never a clue that could be followed?” 

“ No. Jesse Schanck turned the cold agony of his 
eyes on all sides of him, and by the offer of large 
rewards he stimulated the zeal of detectives, but all 
was of no avail. So close and sudden was the search 
that it is difficult to believe the child could have 
been safely spirited away, and it was commonly 
thought the kidnappers had been obliged to dispose 
of him by foul means to evade detection. At the 
best the little one must have fallen in desperate hands, 
and, cruelly maltreated in secret revenge, perhaps de- 


THE OLD MERCHANT’S STORY. 179 

formed, or wasting with hunger and disease, have 
perished miserably with a death worse than drown- 
ing. For a long time Jesse Schanek caught with avid- 
ity at every idle rumor of the boy’s survival, and 
for all his shrewedness he would become the prey of 
impostors, who on one pretence or another would ex- 
tort money from him. 

“But this was long ago. In his heart I think he. 
never entirely gave him up, but he has long ceased to 
speak of him.” 

“ This is a terrible story. From my soul I pity 
the poor man. He seems more human thus to have 
suffered. I wonder it did not soften his nature.” 

“ On the contrary,” mused the old merchant, “ when 
he had grieved apart in cold rebellion for a time, he 
seemed suddenly possessed with an insanity of greed. 
He had sailed about the world and traded in so many 
ports, and matched his wits against unscrupulous men 
of divers tongues so long that, he at length knew where 
to exact the largest returns for his ventures, and be- 
gan to accumulate a great fortune. But this did not 
satisfy him, for living an abstemious life, he reinvested 
his gold over and over again, and thought it hard at 
seed-planting to wait until harvest. 

“ Somewhere about this time Napoleon over-run a 
good part of the old world, endeavored by degrees to 
close the continental ports against British goods, and 
thus skillful smugglers felt invited from all the world 
to engage in contraband trade, from which enormous 
profits could be realized. Among these came Jesse 
Sehanck who, owning a fast clipper, with the help of 
the apostate sailor, who was a rare pilot, engaged in 
this trade, and carried frequent cargoes to Salonica, 
which were then shipped overland in all directions. 
But under the influence of the times he became more 


180 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


and more daring and aggressive, and endeavored to 
reap from both sides, chartering his vessel to the serv- 
ice of Great Britain and loaning money at extrava- 
gant interest to Napoleon. The latter becoming aware 
of his treacherous bargaining, confiscated the treasure, 
and ordered the clipper to be seized at the same 
time. With this, however, Schanck escaped, but the 
loss of his money afflicted him like madness. Several 
times he cried out, 4 Oh, my son, I have ruined you, 
I have ruined you!’ He plucked his beard from his 
face and curses frothed from his lips like the venom of 
rabies. He neither ate or slept for days, but stamped 
in rage about his decks, shaking his clenched fist, and 
calling upon the nether world to avenge his injuries. 
Some months afterwards, being in Amsterdam, he was 
engaged by the agent of a banished royalist to bring 
his family, and a numerous party of friends, with all 
their goods, to New York. 

“ These people had suffered sorely in France, endur- 
ing imprisonment and the loss of relatives by ' the 
guillotine, and in battle, so that now barely escaping 
with lives and personal effects, they held aloof, 
stupefied with the dregs of grief. 

“Jesse Schanck, because of the loss of his money, 
could not hold up his head with his old insolence, and 
therefore, on his part kept himself obscurely, and leav- 
ing the management of the ship to his mate by day, 
came on deck only at night. Prowling everywhere, 
like an uneasy tiger, he discovered partly by observation, 
partly through fragments of conversation overheard 
among the emigrants that, the nobleman had a vast 
amount in specie, plate, in goods and jewels, stored 
away in chests and casks, and his covetous heart was 
inflamed to design some way of securing it. He plotted 
with the pilot, and they arranged^ to so time their 


THE OLD MERCHANT^ STORY. 


181 


arrival off the coast of America that it should be after 
night fall, and that then, while all the passengers slept 
the clipper should be scuttled in familiar waters, and 
during the excitement the treasure in its various re- 
ceptacles, should be thrown overboard and rescued at 
some future time, if it was found impossible to secrete 
the plunder and bear it away at once• ,, 

During his long recital the old gentleman had devel- 
oped an excitement which increased momently toward 
the climax of his story, and it had been communicated 
to me. He rose hurriedly and examined the fastenings 
of his door. 

“ Are you all alone, Mr. Penn ? ” he called softly to 
the book-keeper. 

. “All alone, sir;” answered that humble individual, 
“ the captains have gone, but Mr. Granville has in- 
quired for you. He seems very much excited ” 

“ Never mind now, Mr. Penn. If any one calls tell 
them I am deeply engaged.” 

He locked the door and came close up to me speaking 
in a nervous tremor. “The wreck actually occurred, 
but occasioned by storm instead of the devilish in- 
genuity of the man, though those ship captains just 
gone, who were sailors then on that vessel have 
told me such curdling stories in this very' room 
that, there is nothing to condone because of the ac- 
cident. 

“ They heard him boring and hammering in the hold 
of the clipper, and when the carpenter offered his as- 
sistance, if there were any repairs to be made, he drove 
him away with curses. The carpenter who had secreted 
himself, whispered in the forecastle what he had seen. 
The captain was found examining the bales and pack- 
ages of the emigrants by the aid of a dark lantern, and 
boring into the bottom of the ship, and driving stout 


182 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


pegs into the hold. The sailors were in dire alarm, 
believing that there was a plot to sink the vessel, and 
during the last three days of the voyage they were on 
the verge of mutiny, laboring under such excitement 
that they could scarcely eat or sleep, and Schanck and 
the pilot or mate, were constantly scrutinized by these 
desperate men.” 

The old merchant regained his composure in a meas- 
ure, and to see him sitting there before me with a 
gentle lustre in his eyes, and faint flushes on his 
shaven cheeks, looking, so like an aged boy, made me 
really doubt if he said these direful things to me. The 
fires of unwonted excitement so glowed within my 
breast, that, from frequent observations I suppose of 
Tom, under similar moods, I found myself with a 
fixed glance, softly striding about the narrow room, 
and yet I noticed, that the neat little gentleman was 
absently engaged in taking snuff, spilling the pungent 
powder on his coat and small clothes, while following 
me with his eyes and nodding his head as if in uni- 
son with some asserting thought. At once I com- 
manded myself and sat down, asking, “ What did ik 
profit him ? ” 

“He began his old course of usurious money lending, 
and soon a larger amount than usual of foreign coin 
was in circulation, and upon inquiry the source was 
traced back to Jesse Schanck. He professed that it 
was from the proceeds of his smuggling adventures to 
Salonica, — but he had lost all that to Napoleon ! 
Anyhow, no more of it was placed on loan, but 
shortly afterward he put out large quantities of 
freshly coined gold. Had he not been to the mint, 
with the metal he had melted in a great furnace, 
said to be under his house? Directly he began to 
buy quantities of real estate at forced sales, farms 


THE OLD -MERCHANT’S STORY. 183 

and blocks of houses, wharves and ships, engaged in 
mining, made loans to the government, was supposed 
to be interested in the slave trade, was believed to 
have bribed a legislature, to pass a monopoly canal 
bill, and everywhere his deluge brought back an un- 
dertow of wealth until he is popularly believed to 
be the possessor of enprmous riches. He has ex- 
tended his power and influence in all directions, until 
he is solicited by evil men in all their schemes, and it is 
whispered that the party leaders have hinted a seat in 
the United States Senate awaits his purchase this com- 
ing winter. 

u So the matter stands at present, but in a short time 
all this may be changed. Inquiries are on foot, strange 
men are coming and going, there is something in the air, 
like that suspicion of a storm which even the un warieSt 
can detect. 

44 This disquietude has communicated itself to 
Jesse Schanck, and he no longer ventures for large 
gains, but contracts the bounds of his enterprise, and 
is converting his real assets into cash, preparatory to some 
important steps — whether it be flight or what, I cannot 
say.” 

44 And how does this concern me, my kind friend, for 
I feel you hold something in reserve ? ” 

He got up slowly, smiling faintly, and moved abont 
the room, a quaint figure, as if in self communion. 

44 He will pull the world down on his enemies, should 
he feel a final ruin approaching his own head. You are 
not one of these, but he will suspect that one, to whom 
you have been greatly attached, has foiled his schemes 
— he is narrow and superstitious for all that he is so 
broad in finance. He cannot reach that mysterious 
man, but he can revenge himself on you. I would 


184 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


have you beware. ' And what is better — go away 
secretly, until this great storm is over ! ” 

One conviction flashed upon me, which went thrilling 
to a great depth, “ Tom is alive ! ” I almost forgot the 
warning Mr. Creep had uttered and the grief that Dr. 
Murray had brought me, so cheered was I, and elevated 
at the thought. I felt I could not travel now, I must 
remain and take some heroic part in the downfall of 
this mighty giant. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE TRYST. 

Passing Court-House Square on my way home, I 
observed Granville coming out of a law office, looking 
very calm and collected — far more so than the two 
lawyers who had followed him to the door for their 
countenances were pale and worried. He lightly bade 
them “Good day,” and hurried after me. I was sur- 
prised to see how bright and eager was his face. De- 
feat had not left its impress, but he looked like a gen- 
eral who held a force in reserve to crush his foe in his 
hour, of triumph. 

“ The steamer is gone,” he said, as if he knew I must 
be cognizant of what all the city wal talking about. 
“ Yes, gone, unless Creep — slow name in a race, isn’t 
it ? And yet he’s made a fortune. It is the tortoise 
and the sleeping hare again! Unless Creep, I say, 
should choose to throw a heap of money after her. But 
what’s the use. This picking up of gold out of the maw 
of old wrecks is all a romance. We should have lost all 
some day, anyhow. Let it go. It was my plan to sink 
a cofferdam over the wreck out here in the bay or to 


THE TEYST. 


185 


send divers down in their dumb-bells, but they were 
all afraid. ‘Damn it ! ’ I said, ‘if the ship belonged to 
Schanck, the treasure don’t ! ’ After all, it seems 
it was Schanck’s secret agents who. persuaded me 
into vast extravagances. But I shall be even with 
him yet ! This is his day ; to-morrow will be mine.” 

He looked about him with a grand air, and with his 
bold glance subdued the smile on some of the faces 
that peered curiously at him from various coigns of 
vantage. 

“ Let them laugh,” he sneered, “ they will applaud 
me hereafter. I will put you on the road to splendor, 
too. I have a warm place for you here,” and he struck 
a fervent blow at his heart. 

“ You are a curious fellow, though” he resumed, giv- 
ing me a full stare, “ when you left me last night you 
were melancholy enough but you meet me this afternoon 
irradiated. I will not inquire the cause of that secret 
sacred flame, which rises in you, warming the heart and 
enlightening the mind, but must attribute it to hope, 
rather than good fortune, for I myself, am strangely ex- 
cited, being, I verily believe, on the threshold of great 
events, and about to shut the door on my past life of 
penury and obscure toil.” 

“ Do you allude to your ventures with Mr. Creep ? ” 

“ I will tell you a secret,” he replied not noticing my 
coldness, “ Jesse Schanck has outwitted me there, but 
I was not fool enough to put all my resources in one 
speculation. He has made fortunes in canal schemes, 
but the invention of steam carriages is bound to invalid 
date the usefulness of this mode of transportation, and 
they who foresee the future great rise in railways and 
make their investments accordingly, are bound to be- 
come the money kings of the world. I have presented 
this subject in every light and shade to a chosen few 


186 


DHAHTOM DAYS. 


and we have embarked largely in the newly incorporated 
New York and Rondaine R. R., the first of a thousand 
to be, in America, and while fossils stand aghast, and 
canal companies reprobate, we are on the verge of a 
golden harvest. Stocks have gone steadily upward un- 
der the pressure of a strong under-current of excite- 
ment, and though my clients urged with nervous antici- 
pation of loss that we should sell to-day, I steadily re- 
sisted. I had received a private message from New 
York that the height would be reached to-morrow, when 
we shall sell and treble our original investments. Mr. 
Creep has put fifty thousand dollars into the pool, Miss 
Jude with almost frantic zest, at my persuasion put 
thirty thousand in, and others have swelled the total 
amount to a quarter of a million. I had little, but 
scraped and borrowed, until I got ten thousand to- 
gether, Creep and Miss Jude being my endorsers. My 
margins as agent for others will almost pay my loans. 
Next we shall invest in the prospective Hudson and 
Mohawk. I shall not tell jmu what I foresee, but once 
I have got Aladdin’s lamp in my hands it shall not 
rust.” 

“ Have you no fear of another disaster ? ” 

“ I will confess candidly that I have learned a thing 
to-day that came over me like a prescience of defeat, 
and yet it cannot matter, to-morrow is so near at hand. 
Mr. Creep had his funds out in various maritime ven- 
tures it appears, and so, borrow'ed of Jesse Schanck for 
ninety days, giving a mortgage on hfs real and personal 
estate. That wily financier has the rarest faculty of 
unloading his neighbor’s pockets into his own, and if he 
were cognizant of our scheme, and if it was an enter- 
prise in canals instead of railways, I should fear the is- 
sue. But it has been kept a profound secret from him. 
I mean to astonish him with my ingenuity, and it is no 


THE TEYST. 


187 


boast but that he must acknowledge me a rival in these 
difficult matters.” 

“ Have you dined ? ” he asked, after a pause. . “ No ? 
Well, here we are in front of the ‘Indian Queen ’ ; let 
us go into the coffee-room — we can talk more at leisure. 
It is not worth while for us to go home at this hour to 
the torment of old Phoebe.” 

Evidently here was a man who was not to be treated 
after the manner of the average mortal. I thought I 
had known him, but new combinations had arisen, and 
I must study him again. He clearly did not compre- 
hend, or else he thought it of small amount that, he 
had so deeply offended and outraged my spirit the night 
before. An inner Mentor whispered me that I must 
bend to his humor for the sake of what I might gain in 
another of his moods, and so I followed him in. He 
ordered a sumptuous repast, talking like a millionaire 
all the while, or like a genius distraught, who trenches 
on the absurd in his most magnificent flights. When 
the waiter had removed the last course he threw down 
an eagle and refused brusquely to receive the change. 

“ I shall surprise you,” he exclaimed, bending confi- 
dentially toward me, “but, Jude, I shall make a closer 
study of Jesse Schanck. I should like to talk with him 
face to face, and provoke from him some of those max- 
ims that have sustained him through life. Should I go 
to him alone, I have small reason to believe that I 
should get from him anything but inhospitable treat- 
ment, but if you go with me, I think I can manage him 
on the same principle that one chemical element can 
control another if a third be present, for his sentiments 
being entirely different toward each of us he cannot 
turn his full fury on either ! ” 

I was astounded by his request, but in spite of my 
reluctance to complv, there was something very fascin- 


188 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


ating to my spirit in thus bearding this crafty tiger. 
There would be a fearful pleasure in meeting him, now 
that I held secrets of his, and felt beforehand the cold 
venom of his own poison creeping backward in his 
veins, at the news the incoming Helvetia must bring 
him. 

But again would come over me the uneasy impres- 
sions of my youth, how his cold, calculating eyes, like 
the darted rays of a dark lantern made sudden expos- 
ures of my thoughts whenever he turned them suspi- 
ciously on me. I had always faltered under their icy 
glint, and fancied there was something demoniac about 
the maii who could thus suck all my young spirits and 
warmth away, leaving me listless and vapid in a mo- 
ment. Not for a long time after I had met him would 
my blood run sweet and nourishing in my veins, nor 
thought soar aloft into the ethers that catch the morn- 
ing beams of the world. For his soul was intolerant of 
beauty, or pleasure, or hearts that had holidays, or 
minds that revelled in books. Wit, to him, was never 
an Ariel that took the top of thought, but a tormenting 
gad-fly, escaping on impudent wing the blow he itched 
to deal it. 

Though he could tune his tongue right cunningly at 
times, he better loved to dip it in the rheums and acids 
of our speech. Being angered, there was nothing hot, 
nor explosive that escaped him, nothing honest like a 
blow that rings and fires the metal of an antagonist, 
but his wrath concentrated, and corroded. To hear 
him then, delivering himself in measured, biting, with- 
ering tones, was to feel the edge of frost unhoused, in 
the deadliest morn of winter. 

“ Come, Jude,” urged Mr. Granville, satirically. 
“You haven’t called on your uncle these four years, for 
the episode in his smoky cellar was far from a social 


THE TRYST. 


189 


event ! You shouldn’t let this opportunity pass un- 
heeded, for the love of relatives is an expiring candle 
which needs to be trimmed right often.” 

“I will go with you,” I said, “ when shall it be ? ” 

He had business with Mr. Creep, but an hour was 
named when I should meet him at this same place, and 
with a breath of relief, I parted from him at the door. 

Love in his pain was sorely pricking at my heart, and 
a feeling of despair kept me from returning to my 
home. That look of covert agony in my mother’s eyes 
would return tome, chilling my blood. — I wanted to be 
alone, naturally I turned into a quiet street and sought 
the sea-shore. My thought was of tempests and 
wrecks as I neared it, but the sea that day would have 
been an inspiration even to the angel Raphiel. It lay 
so vast in silent splendor. Not a surge, not a wimple 
of the waters where the zephyrs ran. The ships were 
painted on it. The islands were a mirage. The city 
an intrusion. I strolled further and further away, a 
delicious coolness breathing round me, rising from the 
great rim. 

I sought the little park where I had known so much 
pleasure in the days gone by. When I at length stood 
at the entrance to the garden, I beheld in amazement 
a party of ladies and gentlemen strolling about the 
grounds and in the midst of them the dear lady of my 
heart. Hollow murmurs smote me, and my rapture was 
like that of death. 

I have since seen much of this old world : have 
marked the flower of beauty bloom in many a favored 
clime, and marvelled not that in the antique days angels 
forgot heaven for the love of the daughters of men, but 
never elsewhere, have these eyes beheld so lovely a 
mortal as she who unconsciously stepped before me. 
She was of that luminous beauty that is but the out- 


190 


PHANTOM DAIS. 


ward manifestation of a glory within. Her face was 
arched and happy and from her hazel eyes shone glad- 
ness. 

After all I had suffered, I had grown quite faint with 
the certain rapture of her presence. Sighing, I leaned 
against a tree, resisting the impulse to rush forward 
and throw myself before her, for instinctively I saw 
that, however much I adored her, her own heart had 
felt none of the grief or incertitude of mine — a sore 
argument against love. She leaned her head right 
queenty to listen to some gay speech, and passed slowly 
from me. Not far away came Jacqueline, whose beam- 
ing, rougish face turned right and left into her com- 
panions’, provoking them to laughter with her humorous 
sallies of speech. Half hidden as I was in a copse of 
trees her restless eyes singled me out, and she gave me 
a quick nod of recognition, and glancing backward she 
signed for me to remain where I was. 

In no long time she came to me. “ I hope you enjoy 
your forest life,” said she, ‘“ rooted as you are, and 
gloomy as cypress. Even birch, bark, but you say not 
a word ! ” “ Was it well done of you to leave us so 
long, and to make no response, to the message Marie 
sent you by the good doctor ? ” 

“ Upon my word,” I cried, “ I never received it until 
I was told you had all sailed over the sea. What is 
the meaning of it all ? Had you gone away ? Why 
have you returned ? ” 

Mutual explanations followed. The family had en- 
gaged passage to Bologne sur mer, but the very day 
they were to embark, His Excellency had taken an un- 
accountable repugnance to the ship, the Helvetia, and 
nothing could persuade him to trust himself on board 
of it. As a consequence they had gone by stage to 
New York, where other arrangements had been made, 


the tryst. 


191 


and they were to sail by the Bourbon on Saturday. In 
the meantime, his Excellency had taken a longing to visit 
Worcester once more, though her father, the physician, 
had strenuously argued against it, and all their friends 
had accompanied him here. 

“But I will not conceal from you, since you have 
proven to me you were not indifferent to us,” smiled 
Jacqueline, “ that there were two of us glad to return, 
and give you once more opportunity to redeem the re- 
gard we had for you.” 

“ Did Marie ” 

“ I will not tell you one word about Marie. She 
must speak for herself. For some reason you are not 
to meet his Excellency — he is but barely recovering 
from his illness and must see none but the old friends 
who have come with us from New York, and who are 
to accompany us to Bologne, but I must arrange a 
meeting with Marie, who would gladly see you once 
more, and make her farewells in person. Be at this 
spot at ten o’clock, the moon will be up, and I will send 
Jean to bring you to us, and as Madam Chevreul will 
be present, you must expect as I do, something roman- 
tic. 

“ One word, Master Ruland, you must not come to 
us with your cheeks all wan like Romeo's in the tombs. 
Take the world as you find it : it was made before you 
were born. Let not its complexity darken your com- 
p 1 exion. Think not the music wrong because your soul 
is out of tune.” 


192 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE BURIED TREASURE. 

The sun had set when we reached the house of Jesse 
Schanck. The iron shutters stood ajar — not comfort- 
ably wide and open, letting the day gleam into the 
rooms, but guardedly, as if the house had a soul like 
its master, and resented intrusion. I lifted the old iron 
knocker and sent a sullen summons into the hall. We 
waited, until I was about to repeat the knock, when we 
heard the grating of the huge key, and the door was 
cautiously opened by my aunt. She regarded us se- 
verely through the slender opening she had so far made, 
and with scant courtesy, invited us in, staring oddly at 
Mr. Granville, and with exquisite grace he lifted his 
hat, and still holding it in his hand, he inquired after 
her health. Nor did her husband add a more hospita- 
ble warmth when he appeared in the faded parlor, with 
its prim, uncomfortable chairs, and the carpet brushed 
clean of its nap twenty years before. Some hideous 
China idols on the mantel-piece and in the corners of 
the room, regarded us with leering, malignant eyes. 
And so did the grim banker, though in his face was 
suspicion and rough anger, which rasped on his tongue 
as he spoke. 

“ To what am I indebted for the honor ! Is there 
some new kite flying? Why wait for wind — send it 
aloft by steam ! Be brief and begone ! Do you know, 
Jude, it’s your learned gentry who can’t make- a living. 
Borrow to pay back borrowed money. Purblind of 
opportunity ; on the alert for bad luck. I declare, my 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 


193 


thrift is often taxed to support these knaves of the 
shadow. I can't stand tears, 7 which they have found, 
and they daily weep my substance from me. I am no 
longer rich ; these salt floods have channeled my for- 
tune to the bone. You see how 1 live ! — Gnaw crusts 
that others may dine on truffles, and get damned for 
my pains. Ha ! ha ! ” 

And then he recoiled, as if in regret that his spend- 
thrift tongue had wasted so much of language. His 
cold eyes took a sinister glare and as usual pierced me 
through and through. I felt I must assert myself or 
soon lose courage under this ogreish look. 

“We have come, sir,” I said, “ to gain something 
from your large experience with men; ” — and then 
disturbed by his intolerable eyes, I quite forgot my be- 
ginning, adding, “as to learning, Mr. Granville has 
.convinced me of its superlative power and influence.” 

The grim banker continued to glare at me uncom- 
fortably, while my aunt who had remained, listlessly 
absorbed in the tutor, in horror at my temerity, wrung 
her bloodless hands and hurried out of the room. 
Presently I heard her sweeping in the hall and banging 
the door-mat against the lintel. I would have given 
anything if I had not uttered a word, for the fine 
speech I had meant to make had suddenly dissolved, 
and vaporing about my brain clouded thought, and left 
me awkwardly gazing at a patch in the carpet. 

“ Mr. Granville convinced you of its superlative 
power and influence!” muttered my tormentor in a 
sneering tone. “Granville, you’re no fool ! you knew 
how to convince where a salary was concerned. I 
hope you got it! 4 you were convinced!’ Ha! ha! He 
must have labored hard witl* you. Piled up argument 
until it toppled. Laid the axe of logic to the root of 
prejudice. Verily, you look thin and ghostly from 
13 


194 


PHANTOM HAYS. 


having lost so much of that sap which formerly ran 
riotous in your green boughs, and flowered thick in 
fancies. You’ll be Prime Minister like Pitt, before 
you’re twenty five. Ha ! Ha ! ” 

You little know with what biting malice all this 
sneer was spiced. Inwardly I glowed with hot indigna- 
tion, though I scarcely raised my eyes for a single 
glance at the forbidding face that nodded above me, 
like aguish palsy above its victim, but in that glance I 
saw that Mr. Granville without observing me with his 
eyes was watching me coolly and curiously. Stung' 
too, by this, in an instant, my voice leaped forth be- 
yond my control. 

“ Is there no sanctity to you in any human life ? 
Must your sharp tongue be always piercing to someone’s 
soul ? Are you man or demon that you delight in tor- 
tures, and thrive on the miseries of others ? ” 

My unguarded tongue had rushed away like a met- 
tled steed half mounted. I could scarcely assume com- 
posure so violently did my heart throb in my bosom. 
A loud, metallic shriek of laughter arose from my 
opponent, and not the savage snarl that my heart fore- 
boded. And in that laugh I detected a coloring of ad- 
miration, as if what I had intended as a home thrust 
had only struck a spark from his breast of flint. 

“ By Gad, Granville,” he called out roughly, “ he 
isn’t all nimby-pamby ! But is it from the native grit ? 
The mind that has no resentment wants fibre. It can- 
not cope. The world is not for it, only the hermit’s 
cell, where it sits crowded, contemplating its own pale 
virtues.” 

“ You are not without philosophy, as well as riches,” 
remarked my old tutor. • 

“ Oh, I know a man when I see him. But as to 
riches, one life is not long enough to heap up treasures 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 


195 


in. If I had a thousand years, I could escape from 
the environment of this little city, and by degrees 
drain revenues that smack of kingly flavor. But I’m. 
a poor man ! Green mold grows on the loaf before my 
labor can purchase the way to it. Like a mouse, I dine 
on cheese parings. I even stint myself in water — ” 
bowing stiffly toward Granville— “ there are worthier 
men who need it.” 

“ Many a man stints himself in that,” cried Granville, 
“and makes no virtue of it. Perhaps you use wine in- 
stead ! ” 

At this the savage usurer glowered. He did not like 
that any man should take a liberty with him. 

“What blood I have,” he snarled, “is my own. No 
foreign liquor is rioting in my veins. My thoughts are 
nourished by the home brew that ran through the 
gnarled limbs of old ancestors.” 

“ But treasures are found in ruined houses ; ” per- 
sisted the tutor, “you don’t know what old ghost, with 
the proper talisman, you might arouse within }udu, to 
whisper new ways or deeper, to gain the gains of other 
men. Good wine, is like the king’s mounted guard ; 
it spurs before and crowds all else aside, letting the 
dominant idea and its attendant train of thought, pos- 
sess the empire of the mind.” 

A withering look accompanied the reply : “I have 
but once to see my man, or but once to wrestle with 
him in the dark, where thoughts grope, to know how 
and when to subdue him after that. You will know me 
to-morrow.” 

“ Aye, but I would know you to-night; and trust me 
you would lose nothing by my acquaintance. There’s 
many a good fellow found over a glass.” 

I felt a creeping coldness, for all the atmosphere of 
August, when I heard Mr. Granville speak so slight- 


196 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


ingly and familiar to this ferocious old man, whose eye 
was like an eagle’s and whose forehead was seamed 
with thought. His short, wiry, gray hair was erected, 
but he dissembled his anger, saying : — 

“ I have any time these twenty years had old wine in 
bottles, like the devil’s smoldering brands, lying about 
me ;• but I have never lifted one to light a conflagration 
in my brain, and never mean to.” 

A tantalizing laugh leaped like a malicious spirit into 
the air, from the lips of his tormentor. 

“ You have a rare continence,” he cried, “ but surely, 
if T have heard aright, these same ancestors you spoke 
of, must have come floating in on the tide that swells 
your veins, and have felt many a sad yearning to heap 
the brands and warm themselves again. At least you 
will not withhold the comfort from us, for we are weary 
of study and long walking.” 

“Your walk might have been shorter, but devil a bit 
will you get from me ! ” 

“Come, come!” urged Granville, “let us see the 
bottles at least ! I should like to look on the prisons 
of the genii, and wiping the cobwebs off, read the date 
of their incarceration. But you are only beguiling us ! 
You have no such treasures. You are playing on our 
fancies only to laugh at us in secret. Had I such store 
I must have depleted it long since. It is not in the 
nature of man to deny his appetite when he has nothing 
to lose by it. Why, the great Alexander who could 
refuse, his eyes the sight of the Persian captive princess, 
never denied his lips the kisses of the brimming chalice. 
Those old kings ” 

“ Damn you ! ” growled the forbidding host, “ do you 
always run with your nose to the ground like this ! I’ve 
a mind to show you the wine, and then let’s hear no 
more about it.” 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 


197 


With that he left the room, and presently returned 
with a dingy old lantern, in which a little tallow candle 
burned, for the twilight had deepened, and led us down 
into his dismal cellar, where here and there a slimy 
pool could be seen turning a bilious eye upward at the 
light, or a lean rat, famine’s sleuth hound, slinking, a 
thinner shadow, into the dark. Suddenly he stopped, 
and there at his feet we discerned, but faintly, several 
cases of wine. The wicker baskets were so far gone 
in that atmosphere, that when my tutor pushed two or 
three of them with his foot, they yielded like sodden 
reeds and showed the slim bottles, the labels of 
which Mr. Granville tried to decipher by the feeble 
candle-light. 

“We’ll take some of them up-stairs, and scrutinize 
them -tit our leisure,” he said. 

“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” hastily interposed 
the other. “Zounds, man, put them down! You take 
unaccountable liberties.” 

Just then Mr. Granville stumbled and dropped both 
the bottles he had, and as they fell upon those beneath, 
there came the grit of breaking glass. With an oath 
the miser dropped his lantern and seized the broken 
bottles. A rich odor of mellow wine arose like an 
incense. I snatched up the lantern before the candle 
was extinguished, and held it aloft. 

Four bottles had been broken. The old man had 
a horrified expression on his face. He held two of 
the bottles and Mr. Granville the other two. The 
necks had been broken off, and the wine was stream- 
ing over their hands. “ Run, Jude and get us a 
picther and some glasses — at least we shall need a 
lamp to find our way out of this,” laughingly called 
the tutor. 

I hastened away, for the candle was expiring. In 


198 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the upper rooms my aunt was so reluctant to fur- 
nish us with another that a long time was consumed 
before I descended again to the vaults. I wandered 
out of the track we had pursued, and came upon the 
little furnace; a quantity of some hideous looking 
stripped cacti lay on the floor. In six steps I was 
among the piles of old furniture quaintly carved, 
which I had seen in this underground den when a 
boy. It nvas slowly rotting, and huddled about the 
earth lay piles of what must have been costly books, 
but now swollen with damp and blistering mildew, 
and perused alone of the snails. Many other gloomy 
objects I could only guess at as I hurried along. 

I was suddenly arrested by the sound of high, 
shrill laughter, as of an insane person. It was from 
the usurer. Abstemious as he was, he could not bear 
the thought of his precious wine being drunk by others, 
and so had gulped, one bottle while I was gone. The 
generous old Johannisberger already in his head, had 
become the lord of misrule, and all those harsh and 
penurious thoughts that poured only upon gain, were 
now mastered by a stronger force and came issuing 
forth in a fantastic garb of language, a motley crew, 
rioting, and turbulent of restraint. 

“ Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! ” he shrieked, “ here comes Jack-o- 
Lantern ! Trust the fiend to haunt about his treas- 
ures. Bottles -here, have been holding the wine to the 
compound interest that comes with age. The estate 
has lapsed into Chancery — we’re the lawyers, the 
time’s teeth that gnaw fortune to the bone, the piece- 
makers ! There shall be no quarrels..! Care killed a 
cat — drink and drown care ! ” 

Not a little alarmed, I gazed at the gaunt old man, 
swaying his long arms, and chattering boisterously. 
I was reassured by the cool way in which Granville re- 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 


199 


garded him. He would have taken the remaining 
bottle from the banker, but that, worthy resisted. 

“ Oh, no, Jack ! ” he expostulated, “ the tax gatherer 
after the owner, always. He who has law at his back 
needn't be afraid of justice. Justice put her own eyes 
out — that was hard winking, wasn’t it? Now, in her 
darkness every lawyer plucks his client. March, 
Master Ruland, Master Psalm-face ! Put your nose 
about ; the back of your head likes me better. Do you, 
Satan Granville, stump on your cloven foot behind me ! 
See how the yellow candle burns his own brains out ! ” 

“ Much like the author whose whole existence flames 
into a single book ; ” said Granville, from the rear, 
continuing the thought. “ Commend me to the student 
who spins out his wits. Somebody will profit by that 
which was of no use to him.” 

“ Let us not scrape the dust from the sky,” called 
the master, “ steady, steady, the old earth wabbles to- 
night.” 

And so with many a reckless harangue, we passed 
the piles of antique furniture, the huddled books, an 
old French flag that hung lifeless from a nail, rotting 
cordage, pieces of canvas, and huge chests, some open 
and displaying mildewed linen and mantles that had 
once been fine, and even yet appealed to the eye with 
colors the slanderous mildew could not entirely dim. 
Seeing how curiously I glanced at these, the garrulous 
old man steadied his tall form that, had been beating 
about much like a rudderless galiot in a rollocking 
breeze, and I perceived that his crafty nature for a mo- 
ment awoke and took the helm, but the heart pumped 
the vinous blood too repeatedly for him long to remem- 
ber, or long to control his vagabond tongue. 

“ Sea-treasures,” he muttered, “flotsam and jetsam 
from another world ; blown here twenty years ago, in 


200 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the great storm the heavens raised to clarify their 
upper atmosphere.” 

44 What riches purified from riches, they must have,” 
exclaimed Granville, “ if this is but the sediment.” 

“ Bottom of the pot, always, for a good dinner,” 
coarsely assented the other. 

44 But from whence came all these ? ” I cried, com- 
ing to a full stop, the story of the old merchant rising 
in me with almost audible sound. 

The miser cast a darkly appealing glance at me, for 
he felt his newly imposed weakness, but could not re- 
sist it. 

Down he sat on one of the chests, and we, after 
standing a minute or two longer, also sat down on 
others, and the candle flickering, invoked great shad- 
ows that had long brooded among this hidden wealth, 
to rise like the souls of departed vikings, and tower 
above us, one moment leaning to hear, in another fly- 
ing away with an accursed secret, while others came to 
take their place, and in their turn also to disappear. 

44 Must have heard, Jude,” began the old man, 44 how 
my fine clipper, my staunch albatross, went down on 
these shores long before you were born. Had been a 
wild March, thunder on high, and the devil’s dragoons 
tramping the sea. Fifty black nights had been blown 
out of the calendar pack into this sky, with loudest up- 
roar, when at midnight, boom ! boom ! came the sound 
of cannon from a ship in distress. How she ever drove 
into this bay from the great ocean-highway, is the 
fiend’s secret, or how such tremendous billows followed 
from the ocean, crowding and shouldering till they 
crushed her against a bar of sand and rock, and threw 
man and cargo pell-mell upon our strand, can never be 
adequately explained. But here they came, crusted on 
every wave, and the towns-people hurried about, drag- 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 


201 


ging the drift of quick and dead from the seething 
waters. Some, more enterprising, gathered up the 
sumptuous spoils, which I, following them into the dark, - 
for the men were debtors of mine, demanded with hor- 
rible threats, and made them bear to these musty cel- 
lars.” 

“ But they were not yours,” I exclaimed recoiling be- 
fore him. “ Did no one ever inquire for them ? Were 
all the people drowned ? ” 

“ Not mine,” shouted the avaricious man, “ was not 
the ship mine, and the cargo ? By heaven ! to whom 
does the wealth of the world belong? Not a rag on 
your back but was plucked feloniously from the sheep, 
or filched from cotton fields. Who gave man domin- 
ion over beast and weed ? This generation does not in- 
habit space, nor inherit stuff or farthing but belonged 
to other men. 

“Heigho! see the shadows clothe the spirits that 
evedrop! Blaze away, little candle, and keep off the 
spirits ! Time’s a rogue ; close-lipped, tactiturn old 
rogue. ’ He tells no man charm or secret, till he’s aged 
past the using of it. 

“Great Jove ! when I think how old this world is — 
this world is -” 

“ What then ? ” called Granville, softly. 

“ I know there’s mighty treasures hid somewhere, 
the sea must be full — the waves can barely cloak it. 
At low tides I’ve picked up strange gold.” 

And here his hands began to fumble, as if searching 
in sea-drift, until the wine he held loosely in his grasp 
began to pour from the broken bottle. This vaguely 
reminded him, and muttering, “ Save more than you 
spend !” he applied his lips to the broken neck, but 
Granville hastily rising, brought from the little furnace 
a glass, which he filled from one of the flasks of Jo- 


202 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


hannisberger and presented him, and after that, with 
grave precision, he kept it brimming. 

To my youthful eyes, save that I regretted seeing 
any man intoxicated, this scene was not heinous 
or to be moralized over, for in those days all men drank 
more or less, and I had seen boisterous fellows strike 
the necks from bottles, and drink off the contents with 
great eclat. But I must confess I did not feel quite 
easy at seeing this grim millionaire in this condition, 
not that I blamed Mr. Granville ; it had all come about 
T thought, so unpremeditated and natural. And 
besides he must have run the gauntlet of many 
stinging insults who would have interfered with any 
whim of this sour old man. 

As for Granville, his eyes seemed to have pierced a 
canopy and to be looking straight in on dreams. My 
own fancies began to work. I heard the powerful 
voices of the storm, the thick darkness hung about my 
eyes, the cannon boomed, torches were flaring on the 
shore, the ship had broken, the waves were snatching 
from the waves drowned men and women, mixed with 
floating bales, and all tumbling together on the wild 
beach. 

The merciful were gathering the dead and dying, and 
happily some who were to live, and were tenderly bear- 
ing them away, while freebooters were plundering un- 
mindful of the cries and horrors of the hour, and one 
more keen and voracious still, was following them into 
the darkness as they fled, and was making them dis- 
gorge at his very door. 

“ Were they all drowned? ,v I cried, again. • 

“ All who drowned ? What’s a handful clutched 
* from the tribes of the earth, and thrown weltering into 
the salt foam like so many live lobsters into a pot ! 


'THE BURIED TREASURE. 203 

What’s the difference when, or how, since all must die, 
and time’s but a ripple ! ” 

“ But were none saved ? ” I persisted. 

“ Possibly, possibly,” lie returned, indifferently, “ I 
think I did hear of two or three women and children 
who were. They’re hard to kill, hard to kill ! What 
a world this would be if the inhabitants were all men ! 
The women and children consume so much ! They eat 
us down, however well we run. They shorten the day 
of its great hours wherein we wrest the gold from each 
other’s hands. Eh, Granville ! Pleasure’s the bird 
that robs us when we have laboriously robbed our fel- 
low. The toll-master is never done taking. He’s got 
more coats and antics than an actor. He’s ever got his 
hand out as middleman, merchant, tax-gatherer, lawyer, 
priest or woman.” 

“ What became of the saved? these men and women 
you speak of ? ” interposed the tutor. 

“ What are you boring for, now ? ” hissed Schanck. 
“Your eyes are like burglar’s gimlets. They’re wind- 
ing and prying to the deep of other men’s thoughts. 
Live in your own shell, don’t get into mine ! Two 
souls in one skull jostle out the owner’s brains.” And 
he glared at Granville like a wild beast at bay. 

As for the latter, he seemed to dart an angry flame 
from his eyes, at which his grizzled foe began to cower 
and whine. 

“ What should I know of what became of the women ? 
They never get lost in a crowd. They put a finger in 
a soft heart and get led away into palaces, or if they 
get led into a hovel they put a vampire tooth into the 
man all the same, and suck away his life, his money. 
They are all of troll race — thes§ women. They’re 
cunning enough to give birth in excess to their own 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


204 

kind : they won’t bear all men ! Did they do that we 
might soon get rid of them ! ” 

“But Tom Crispin ! ” I urged hurriedly, for fear his 
venomous fancies should take him poison-gathering 
again, and I should lose the clue to the mystery that 
had often puzzled me sorely. “ Was not Tom Crispin 
one of the saved ? ” 

“ Tom Crispin’s got more sense than he pretends to 
have. He’s deep. He bides his time.” And here he 
groaned. “ He’s another, that’s got bond and mortgage 
against life. These solemn fools never die. Something 
uncanny about Tom. Sometimes I think he’s the 
devil. Once I saw him go into a house all tricked out 
with his greasy suit and stupid fac.e, and hie presto ! he 
comes out in bright foreign clothing, such as these 
chests contained, smiling grandly, like a king, not a bit 
of a limp, and tosses me a gold piece as if I had been a 
beggar. To me, damn him, that could have bought a 
thousand like him ! I was so amazed I could not fol- 
low. There lay the gold in the moonshine, ‘ Devil’s 
bait! ’ says I, ‘lie there. You’ll never catch me ! ’ I 
came back before daylight. The gold was still there. 
The moon was almost down. Some one comes toward 
me casting a tremenduous long shadow. It was Tom. 
No longer princely, except in his clothes. His eyes 
were set in a hard stare. My flesh crept on me. He 
went into the big house. Presently I heard some one 
whimpering under a window, and looking up at a light 
in the upper story, and calling softly in German. The 
light was extinguished, and shambling painfully over 
the flower beds, grieving and wringing his hands came 
Tom. My hair stood on end. The wrinkled little 
moon went down,\he night spread suddenly, a wind 
began to blow. I felt on my hands and knees for the 
gold, and brought it home. ,>It was like the old coins I 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 205 

had found when the tide was out. I have never dared 
to touch one of them since.” 

“ Oh, sir, was Tom cast ashore from the wreck ? ” I 
persisted, strangely affected by his revelation. 

“ I think he caused it,” muttered the old man. 

“ And what did you do with the gold ? ” asked Gran- 
ville, filling the half emptied glass. His voice had an 
eager thrill to it. I turned to look at him. There was 
a shrewd, expectant smile on his face. 

The old miser shed a baleful glare upon him, and 
raised his glass as if under some fascinating influence, 
uttering a harsh, demoniac laugh, crying, ‘‘Saved it for 
you, my sharp fellow' ! Do you think I haven’t seen 
the cut of your bones through the pink flesh you’ve 
put on? I know the trend of an avaricious jaw 
though it be bloomed over by youth’s summer, and 
hid under roses. You don’t creak at the knees, nor 
feel the rust in your spine, but you’ll come to it some 
day, counting your gains. Ha ! ha ! ” And his laugh 
was full of derision. “I knew you would bring me 
bad luck, the first time I saw you. Your tongue is 
oiled with the attar of roses and moves among lan- 
guage like a sly wind among June leaves. Never 
mind. Come on. You’re poor ns a sexton’s client, 
but you shall have cheese parings and grow. sleek. 
You’re a cormorant without wings, but you shall' 
moult no longer, but feather and fly away. Help 
here ! ” 

And he began to tug at the huge chest on which he 
had been sitting, and though we scarcely divined what 
he meant, we caught hold the iron handles and pulled 
amain. When it had been dragged from its position, 
he began to claw the earth near by, and bringing forth 
an old spade, dug with a feverish zest. We heard the 
click of the blade on metal. A good sized iron box 


206 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


was uncovered, and the lid being raised disclosed a 
monstrous wealth of gold and precious stones, which 
gleamed upon us like eyes in Pluto’s cave. I gave a 
low cry of admiration ; then, fascinated as much by 
the gloating countenances of the two men, who leaned 
above the strong box, I drew back and held the candle 
aloft. It was burning down to the socket. The shad- 
ows like ghosts that suspired with terror and threw 
their grisly arms aloft, were making tip-toe dances in 
a narrowing circle about us. A venturesome wind had 
got in at some broken pane and was groping blindly 
about the vault, bringing down ancient dust from the 
rafters, and an odor of must and brine from the hang- 
ings and piled books, and rotting furniture and open 
chests. 

“ Make haste ! ” I urged, “the light is almost gone ! ” 

My uncle delved his hands deep in the treasure, 
bringing up a tangle of curiously wrought necklaces 
and bracelets, out of which dropped small gems, spark- 
ling as they fell, and heavy gold coins that clinked on 
the mass below. He must have held a hundred thou- 
sand dollars worth of jewels in their massive settings, 
in his hands, then he let them slip slowly through his 
fingers, dangling and glistening like lithe serpents. He 
was so oblivious, and so loth to give, or leave his ill- 
gotten gains ! At last, as if something outward pierced 
a ray through the fumes of wine, he stooped again and 
took up an old steel purse which contained a single 
gold coin, and pressing it into Mr. Granville’s hands, 
he shut down the lid of the iron box, with a dull heavy 
sound, and staggered upward. At the same moment 
the candles flared and went out. 

In the hush we plainly heard the slow, laborious 
steps of a man leaving one of the low windows, and 
heard the regular sweep, sweep, of my aunt’s broom in 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 


207 


the room overhead, and knew she was exorcising any 
ghostly trace of dust that we had left behind us. We 
began to find our way, as best we could, in the dark, to 
where a dim ray from the smallest of tallow-dips peeped 
doubtfully downward through the open doorway of a 
cellar, from out the great hall where my aunt was en- 
gaged with her broom. 

Having arrived in the littered, unsocial counting- 
room, the intoxicated banker did not forget to continue 
his insults, though, like a viper that bites itself, he was 
only freshly stung by his own venom. Mr. Granville 
with serene forbearance appearing to hear nothing of 
his tirade. 

“ This is a most curious old coin,” enthusiastically 
proclaimed the tutor, “ it is ancient German, and is a 
family coin, stamped with the effigy of its ruling lord, 
and though I cannot now make out the date ” 

“Aye,” interrupted the elder, “it is gold, and 
whether you hit it in the face with a Dutch fist, or an 
English, you can’t alter that. It’s seed and harvest if 
you know how to plant and reap. You’ll do that last, 
Granville.” And then, after a minute, noticing that 
the latter still turned and scrutinized it, he growled, 
“The piece pleases you, does it! Put it in your 
pocket, it is yours, keep your midriff tickled. It won’t 
be lonesome long.” 

“ Every man you see is your slave, if you but hide 
the whip and work him through your overseer,” ob- 
served Granville. 

“ Well, you do get off the most vacuous profundity,” 
said the miser, “ Keep the gold for pay ! ” 

“ You would like to shift the bait to my hook ! ” re- 
turned the tutor, sardonically. 

The miser clapped his hands to his head, making it 
reel between them slowly. “ That wine,” he muttered, 


208 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


‘•is like a swarm of bees, buzzing, buzzing. Queer ar- 


rangement that men should have to eat and eat. 


Did 


we go naked as nature meant, and did we require no 
food, as should be the case with men who live by wit, 
and not by war, what millions might be saved. Dance, 
little candle ! Put one of them out, Jude. Two 
Judes, two Granvilles, two candles, two. desks ! Wine's 
not so bad if it multiplies — the gold, I mean. Gnaw, 
gnaw ! What Judith! Judith! Could you leave your 
broom a moment, and give us some supper.” 

I heard my aunt drop dust-pan and brush in amaze- 
ment. She peered in at the door with a ghastly face. 
‘•Supper? — ” she breathed the word so thin and cold, 
it seemed to come against our ears like a spear of frost. 
And hearing no second request, and apparently un- 
mindful of her husband’s condition, as he had his back 
toward her at the moment, she sharply closed the door, 
and anon we heard her dragging the bed across the 
floor in a room above- us, and re-arrange the furniture. 

The miser began to hum a drowsy tune, toying 
clumsily with his books and papers, and I arose, look- 
ing appealingly at my tutor, for the remembrance of 
my tryst at ten o’clock was ever uppermost in my 
mind. lie arose too, but the muttering host turned 
fiercely on him. 

“ Granville, what did you do with the wine ? Do 
you not see that nephew is half-drowned in the surf? 
Wild night, but lia ! ha ! there’s a fortune in it ! ” 

“ The wine,” exclaimed Granville, “ it is down cellar 
winking bubbles, and watching the strong box. I -will 
go get it, for remember it has held no discourse with 
our palates.” 

“ You’ll do no such thing ! ” hissed the miser in 
alarm, staggering up so suddenly lie upset his chair, and 
catching at a drawer of his desk he pulled it out on the 


THE BURIED TREASURE. 209 

floor, scattering the contents. He seized a candle, and 
we heard him unsteadily hurrying down the stairs. 

“ Come, sir ! ” I said, 44 let us go. This is not credit- 
able, and I feel ill at ease.” 

“ To go away now,” he returned, as he stopped to 
examine some yelltnv parchments scattered at his feet, 
44 would be an insult to fortune. When the avaricious 
old Silenus again appears, he will be well on in the 
fifth act of the comedy, and we shall have the key to 
all his past life.” 

I took out my watch, it was past nine, and I showed 
my uneasiness. 

44 Very well,” continued he, reluctantly, 44 since you 
wish it. Here is our humorous host, and we will make 
our adieus.” 

The old man reeled into the doorway, with his candle 
almost inverted, the flame rising and spluttering. His 
face was dusky as old mahogany, contrasting strangely 
with his bristling white hair. He stared hard at us, 
and the room and its occupants must have been swirl- 
ing before his eyes, as swiftly as boat and boatman that 
dance at the tide’s end down Maelstrom. 

44 What are you four grinning at?” he shouted. 
44 Your flesh peeling from your skeletons ! You swim 
round and round like flies in a funnel ! Four motes 
in the drink/ that time quaffs — will he fish you out with 
his thumb ? Lord, lord, why do rich men die ! I won- 
der they ever let death loose. He's the insanest vaga- 
bond out of the tombs ! Like a blind man he looks 
steadfastly with the back of his eyes, and so, cuts down 
saint and sinner. Must be a deep pit the earth turns 
round in : no gilding except at the top — that’s day- 
light ! Think you the earth might not be an eye ? 
What, then, is Cyclop’s doing ? Is he thinking when 
14 


210 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


it thunders? Jude, Jude, did I hear you say c Good- 
night ? ’ Good night, it is then.” 

And dropping his voice to a husky whisper, “ By all 
I mean to sell you, lad, bring not Granville any more ! 
He has crowded me — I am not my old shape. I am 
dissolving into dreams — returning to the elements. 
Make scant shift with, courtesy and get you gone.” 
And then leaning over, with a malicious leer, he whis- 
pered in Granville’s very face “ Go by the New York 
and Rondaine route, and you will not trouble me 
again ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

DEFEATED IN THE HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 

An entrancing flood of moonlight pervaded the 
streets and gardens, and the people we met were mov- 
ing in a delicious atmosphere of romance. As to our- 
selves, we seemed to have suddenly come into freedom, 
as an inheritance. The .world seemed so large and 
presented such endless vistas, all the .more apparent, 
coming from the penury of yon rich man’s great barren 
rooms, and from that air of suspicion so stifling to the 
heart. I scarcely dared look at Mr. Granville, after 
the outrageous conduct of my quondam uncle. I 
longed to smoothe over the inflicted insults which I 
felt for all his wonderful equanimity, must have pierced 
and poisoned him somewhere. But my tutor walked 
with bold strides, and a great look was in his face, as 
of one who had caught heroic glimpses, and commerced 
with the ruling spirits of the world. Already, I felt, 
in his soul he had crossed the Rubicon and was oppos- 
ing the existing order of things, Suddenly he turned 


DEFEAT IN THE HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 211 

upon me a face as bright and mysterious as the moon’s, 
and his voice leaped forth as if he could no longer con- 
trol the secret powerful impulses jarring within him. 

“ The day of my triumph is at hand ! Yon scaven- 
ger has been toiling for me all these years and knew it 
not. There is no mean fosse, nor dark and tortuous 
road but he has plied his trade upon it, and he has done 
well. I have waited long, but this servant of mine has 
gathered from the ends of the earth and filled my 
coffers, and I foresee avenues to power and influence 
beyond the dreams of Aaron Burr. To-morrow I shall 
begin to enter upon my possessions.” 

“ Surely,” I cried, “ you have not caught the conta- 
gion of avarice from the sight of so much wealth — ill- 
gotten, as I conceive it to be ! You do not, I hope, 
plot against this wretched old man — you, who have so 
often seemed to admire, or at least to respect his rapa- 
cious talent for gain ! If he must fall, leave his ruin to 
another. It seems illy to become you. Your virile 
mind should succeed by matching itself against the 
higher powers, and not by earthly encounters.” 

He gave a strange laugh, drawing himself up loftily 
and treading the earth as though he were striding a 
dragon he had slain. 

“ I might let him off for awhile,” he said, like one 
who makes a large concession. “If I find to-morrow 
I have netted ten thousand ; but in any case you must 
giiie yourself up to me this night, for I can scarcely in 
three hours win you over to my plans, and yet, I know 
I shall.” 

I groaned inwardly thinking of my tryst, and cast 
about in my mind how I might graciously be rid of him, 
when the sound of rapid wheels came, to us, and a 
carriage rolled round the nearest corner, and the coach- 
man peering right and left brought his sleek animals 


Phantom days. 


212 

to a halt. He got down from his box and going round 
to the carriage door seemed to be talking in some per- 
plexity with the occupant, who looking out with dif- 
fident movements of the head, appeared to be in trouble. 
As we approached nearer I recognized the antique 
features of Miss Jude. Hastening up, I bade her 
good evening, and asked if I could be of any service. 

“ Oh, is it you, Jude ! ” she returned, with a sigh of 
relief, “ Excellent old James is gone, you know, and T 
can not make Peter understand : and my eyes being so 
— but it does not matter ! Oh, the perfidy of men is 
beyond conception ! Can you tell me where I can find 
Mr. Granville ? It is all lost — every penny ! They told 
me he had gone to Jesse Schanck’s — a most suspicious 
thing ! I had sounded that wily old spider, myself. 
My caution had been extreme — it was as if I had hid 
myself in vapor and had been breathed in among his 
thoughts. I stole his councils and he was not aware.” 

“ ‘ I wonder,’ I said, ‘ that you who have so man}^ ships 
and capable sailors have not pried to the bottom of 
the sea and got up the rich treasures buried in 
wrecks ? ’ 

“ 4 Bah ! ’ he growled, 4 Your salt water eats up gold. 
In a dozen years you could stick your thumb through 
an Eagle that has lain under the tide so long. In 
twenty years you could shovel up a cargo of dollars like 
so much green slime.’ 

“ ‘How about Sir William Phipps ? ’ I cried. « 

“ ‘ He was a pirate,’ grinned he. And while I 
mused, not liking now the scheme of plundering old 
wrecks, ‘ My dear madam,’ he called, ‘ why don’t you 
invest in railroads, if you want a harvest, they’re bound 
to be the highway to Plutus ’ caverns ! ’ You know he 
always used tragic tropes. ‘ For instance the N. Y. 
and Rondaine R. R. ? ’ said I, carelessly. ‘Excel- 


DEFEAT Itf THE HOUR OE TRIUMPH. 2i3 

lent ! ’ he cried with a great good-humored ‘ Ha ! Ha ! ’ 
Ajnd so it came around when Mr. Granville had wasted 
several thousand dollars in experiments of diver’s bells, 
exhaustion pumps, coffer dams and other apparatus, 
examining and rejecting ships, and heaven knows what 
all — surveying in the harbor foi* the lost clipper ‘ Alert,’ 
till Jesse Schanck’s suspicions were aroused, and when 
one day he descended upon the crew of the boat which 
had just returned from their soundings, and raged 
horribly, threatening all kinds of suits at law for inter- 
ference with his wreck, it was thought best to abandon 
the project, though we should sacrifice the ship, and 
finally we all came to invest in the New York and 
Rondaine R. R. sure enough. But oh ! the telegrams 
that have been forged by that vile old man ! Whoever 
invented the buying of stocks should sit in the stocks ! 
But I shall appeal to the law ! ” 

And so her voluble tongue ran on, with little hys- 
terical breaks as she caught her breath between sen- 
tences. Evidently the railway scheme had also proved 
a failure through some connivance of Jesse Schanck, 
and the news was already in Worcester. But Gran- 
ville, certainly, had not heard it, neither the voice of 
Miss Jude, for he strode up and down a little way from 
me, his hands gesturing to his thoughts and his face 
turned upward into the; night. I felt that he was al- 
ready crowding himself strongly into the current of 
the world, striving for place and itching to grasp the 
thunder-bolts of power. 

Thrice I endeavored to tear myself away from the 
brink of the interminable torrent that poured over 
Miss ' Jude’s tongue, but I could not escape. I looked 
at her appealingly, but could get in no word. Her 
whole anatomy was vibrating to hidden shocks of mag- 
netism. Her hands and arms were wreathing, making 


214 


PHANTOM HAYS. 


short flights, returning, entreating, enforcing; while 
her poor silly head was all the vehemence, nod- 
ding, arching, shaking; eyes leering, shoulders con- 
vulsed with shrugs, her figure bending, recovering, and 
swaying, to the tides of passion that swept over it. 
The coachman long ago prattled into vacancy had 
set his face, open-mouthed against the moon, the horses 
had forgotten their mettle and began to nod. 

“Mr. Granville!” I called, “here’s a lady who 
wishes to see you, and as her business is private, I will 
withdraw.” 

He took in the matter with difficulty, holding me by 
my arm, finding it hard to leave his elevated plane of 
thought, and come toward Miss Jude, wondering. 

“ What is the matter good madam ? ” he asked. 

“ Never tell me you do not know ! you are far too sub- 
tle to be caught in the toils though you inveigle others 
into them. How dare you stand smiling before me ! 
You with jmur grand schemes' of finance, to consort 
with Jesse Schanck to trick us with false intelligence! 
Oh, we are undone. by treachery ! ” 

“ Upon my honor ! ” exclaimed Granville, his face 
pale, but far from despairing, “ I have not the least idea 
of what you mean ! I have been paying a call on Mr. 
Schanck, it is true, Tut Jude has been with me andean 
report you every wo?d I have said. I have heard no ill 
news. On the contrary everything promises well to my 
hopes ” ' 

“ Yes, to youf hopes ! ” she shrieked frantically. 

He ended as if he had heard no interruption— “ and 
to-morrow we shall all realize something stupendous, 
each according to his investment.” 

At this the lady was almost beside herself — short 
waves of passion broke upon her brow, and her coun- 
tenance was shaken with her agitation. 


DEFEAT IN THE HOUR OF TRIUMPH. 215 

“Wretch!” she exclaimed, “is your blood cold 
enough to sustain you in this farce ! Do we not know 
to-night that Jesse Sehanck held secretly a controlling 
influence in the road, and that you had purchased us 
inflated stock? * It was going down, down, down, all 
the time that the messages we received represented it as 
advancing, and now that you pretended the acme had 
been reached, and ordered the sale the lowest depth had 
been touched, and we are ruined forever ! ” 

Granville staggered against the coach, staring at her 
so terribly that, in a fright she pulled up the window, 
and calling from the other side to Peter, he mounted his 
box and drove hastily away. 

I released Mr. Granville’s convulsive hold upon my 
arm, but before I could address him, he drew himself 
up savagely and strode off in the direction of Jesse 
Schanck’s house.. 

Greatly disquieted for fear of arriving late at my ren- 
dezvous, I was hurrying onward when I discovered 
Csesar seated on my favorite, Selim, slowly riding in 
front of me. I called to him and turning about, the 
good fellow, not waiting my request, dismounted, telling 
me he had been for Dr. Murray to attend my mother. 
“Is she ill?” I anxiously inquired, but I was set at 
ease by being told that she suffered only from a trifling 
indisposition. I was soon in the saddle, but now feeling 
secure of meeting my appointment, I felt impelled 
to turn back and seek Granville. But - he was no- 
where to be seen, and had evidently changed his 
course, and possibly was already in the midst of his ex- 
cited clients, and paiufully I thought of the end of his 
high schemes. 

I found the iron shutters of the miser’s great barn- 
like house, still open ; within a feeble light was flick- 
ering like a bat-wounded firefly, now ineffectually 


216 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


chasing a shadow up the ceiling, now beaten by the 
shadow. I rode up to the old worm-eaten steps, and 
looking in the window I saw the miserable old man on 
his knees before a heap of chains and gold which he had 
evidently brought from the buried chest, and meant to 
hide under the floor of the room, for small gems and 
coins glistened dubiously along his wayward path from 
the door. A fear crept through me of crime that might 
come, if unlawful eyes should look in on him, so I called 
softly to him. 

There was a dismal groan from within, then the can- 
dle was blown out, and silence in a moment became so 
profound that I heard a crack run through the old 
walls, as if the house shuddered and was smitten by a 
conscience. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

M. DE EOUVILLE. 

It was getting late as I rode out of the woody 
avenue and tied my horse to a tall oak at the en- 
trance. The mansion was brilliant with lights, and a 
sound of music went through the air like a flight 
of cherubims discoursing to the stars. I saw a slow 
figure coming toward me, which I recognized far off as 
Jean. For some time this kindly old fellow had shown 
to be in the clutch of age, a laborious gait was none 
the less surely bearing him away, and his mind had 
grown abstracted, wistfully busy with old memories, 
and becoming dull to the pain of living. 

“ You have come for me, Jean ? ” I cried. 

“ Yes, she would have it so. Young fancies shuffle 
our old feet like cards. It seems strange to me 


M. 1)E liOUVILLS. 


217 


that at last I should not be lord of my own flesh, 
but it creeps about at another’s bidding more 
than at my own. I often thiwk what luxury it 
would be to lie in the sun like “ Luck,” and doze 
life away.” 

“Are you so tired of it, Jean? I fancy if I were 
a hundred years old, I should still enjoy the noble race 
of man, the stately march of time, the woods and the 
sea. But where am I to go ? At once to the house ? 
Am I to be introduced to them all ? ” 

I turned and looked at the old man as we continued 
to walk toward the mansion, but his head was bent 
downward and he was muttering to himself, and 
evidently he had not caught a word I had said. As 
we came hearer I heard conversation and laughter, 
and saw a goodly company seated in little groups 
within. Jean left me on the veranda, pointing to- 
ward a chair near one of the windows, and with an 
abruptness that would have been morose had not his 
face seemed so pitiful, he turned and left me with- 
out a word. Evidently I was to await here for Jacque- 
line, but without time for thought my heart gave 
a wild throb, as I perceived Marie through the 
interlacing vines that effectually concealed me, though 
leaving the interior of the room free to my gaze. I 
could not turn my eyes on anyone but the incom- 
parable young hostess. With marvelous grace she 
walked among her guests, gently discoursing, and 
the inexpressible beauty of her form and face ap- 
peared to ray forth in her manners, and make a glim- 
mer of beauty all about her. How easy it seemed, to 
be sweetly self-possessed, gracious and enchanting. 
To interest and be interested. To make vanish the 
blurred mist, dullness, with a luminous phrase. To 
divine the current of men’s minds by the meaningless 


218 


PHANTOM DA AS. 


words that float upon them like debris on a strong,* 
soundless stream. 

And yet she was not in the full flush of woman- 
hood. Her soul was a rose that had begun to un- 
fold in a happy morn of May. High lineage was be- 
hind her ; memory was in her blood rather than deep 
lore in her mind, so that instinctively she knew how 
to deport herself, and what to expect, and what to 
ingeniously exact. The best of a noble race reappeared 
in her. Her resources in the past were inexhaustible. 
One felt that Helen and Cleopatra might be myths, 
but that Marie de Rouville incarnadined the old ro- 
mances, and the future somewhere was being brightly 
stained with bows of promise, arches of triumph 
under which she should go, and take the world. 

And as in some splendidly' conceived painting, all 
the faculties of the artist’s soul poring upon the ruling 
thought, have radiated from the central face a 
glory that tints and harmonizes each individual object 
in its field, from passionate youth, and ministers to 
sense, and pleasure rolling on her car before, down to 
the humblest spear of grass holding aloft its dew-drop 
in the morning air, so did the divine face of Marie de 
Rouville give character and purpose, and a certain 
transmissable beauty to all about her, until it seemed 
that even inanimate things, took on a glow, that faded 
momently when she had turned away. 

Sideways stole in upon my eyes tire rich colors of the 
room, warm paintings, bits of sunny nature ravished 
awuiy from storied scenes, and pressed into the compass 
of a frame ; statues taken in the expression ; mirrors, 
like 'open doorways into elysium, across which, within, 
flitted fair forms; flowers in profusion, a hum of con- 
versation in my ears, and over and through all, melo- 
dious utterance of the muse. Struck cords that, some- 


M. DE BOUVILLE. 


219 


where out of sight, distilling music, ached upon the 
sense, and rising like a tide in heaven, drowned out 
dull care. 

With the halo still before my eyes, my thoughts 
wandered toward my tutor. I knew that even more 
than to me, whose starved heart, God knows, called for 
warmth and human love and beauty, all this opulence 
and perfect feature must strongly appeal. And then 
I thought of him somewhere under the moon staggered 
by his ill-fortune, and dogged by those he had ruined. 
What castles were toppling in his mind, what clouds 
were rolling in the morrow! Would he be soured and 
become debased, giving way to the evil influences that 
seemed at times to await in anarchy the moment in 
which they might possess his spirit? 

A silence had come over the assemblage when next 
I bethought me, and something of expectancy stole 
outward to'me. The music had ceased, and Marie had 
glided away with a rare smile to return in a moment 
with a man of noble bearing, whose features convinced 
me that something illustrious in mind and fortune had 
given him inimitable grace and distinction. He greeted 
his guests with what I might call affectionate polite- 
ness, so deep was its cordiality, given with such spon- 
taneity and with an evident desire to please. J3ut in 
spite of all that should have given assurance, warmed 
the wit and given it wings of light, I sat gazing in un- 
disguised astonishment at the kind and genial gentle- 
man. It seemed to me that here was poor Tom Cris- 
pin, risen from out his grave of sense, freed from the 
gross corporeal chains that clogged his spirit from its 
development in the upper airs. For the Baron De 
Rouville was of medium height, stout, with a large 
head and heavy features, brown eyes, and iron-grey 
hair. His shaven face aided still more in recalling 


220 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


facial characteristics of the old serving man. But 
there the comparison ended. For Tom’s face was duli 
and troubled, his eye lacked lustre, and his manner 
was hesitating and abstracted. Whereas the Baron’s 
large head had something very striking and grand in 
its proportions, his eyes were luminous, and from 
eveiy feature there was a gleam of varied intelligence 
and power. It was easy to see that his was an accom- 
plished spirit, full of outward sparkle, like a lake that 
mellows to the sun, but holding in reserve immense 
funds of resource that no emergency of this world 
could wholly conscript to the fore. 

There came to me one of those sensations of mind 
that, like the lightening darting from under cover of a 
night of clouds, illumine a vast perspective, that under 
happier stars poor Tom might have become all that this 
courtly Baron was. Might have been he, who in the 
shadow of this moment, had awakened the weird music 
whose echoes even now were wandering deep in my 
soul. Might have gathered about himself, as thus, all 
these beautiful objects of genre, with which the artistic 
sense loves to clothe itself withal, as if the full spirit 
could contain no more, but must flower forth. And as 
one thought lends a wing to another; one accomplish- 
ment is but the segment of the spiral that wreathes 
toward immortal joys ; so poor Tom having begun to 
develop in harmonious atmospheres, might have gone 
on kindling and breaking into brighter and more aspir- 
ing flame. And I felt a real sorrow that this amiable 
soul, who, unable himself to draw a single note from 
lute or lyre, yet trembled with awe and passion at 
melodious sounds; who stood tranced before a bloom- 
ing rose ; who looked out upon the morning as if upon 
the passing of a god — I felt a real sorrow that he might 
not enter into his kingdom here, upon earth. 


M. DE ROUVILLE. 


221 


For I am not certain that we comprehend how vast 
is the nature , and acquirements of a man of genius — 
how many-sided he is ; how many noble men, as it 
were, house under his lofty brow, and look forth from 
his kindling eyes. Or, how circumscribed and barren 
is the limit of a common mind ! If it reach forth 
into the vast of thought, it feels cool and mysterious 
airs sweeping corridors it dares not venture in — but to 
genius, the gods have everywhere given access, and it 
passes through adamant like a spirit, and makes the* 
last mountain of the earth but a stepping stone to the 
stars. 

We here and there know a young person who can 
sing two or three songs passably well, can compose a 
verse with sweetness enough in it to live an hour, can 
paint a little or model in clay, has talent enough to 
speak well upon some passing event, can make an ephem- 
eral criticism upon an ephemeral book, can tincture 
a conversation with a hint of something deeper than is 
spoken, — even such a mind, nowhere deep, — indeed, 
but a little light playing upon the stream that runs 
away with us all — we are pleased to say, is of more 
than ordinary merit. But there is always some one 
who can sing better, and some one else who can draw 
the ineffable music from the spheres ; some one who 
can write a more melodious verse, and some one else 
who can weave the glory and dominion of the age into 
an epic ; some one whose painting, or whose bust in 
clay,, can draw its own selection from the admiring 
crowds about it, but — someone else whose living canvas 
puts a fever in your blood, or whose marble thrills you 
into nobler living, or whose oration haunts you to your 
dying day, whose book is a pinion in the wings of fame, 
and whose conversation draws your soul after it as new 
wine draws the bees, or as larks follow the eagle. These 


222 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


latter are the men who have genius. And anon comes 
one who combines them all in his one mind! The man 
who can do but a few things and these but indifferently 
well, can never know — nature has not made him ca- 
pable of knowing, the divine raptures and infinite 
depths of sorrow, the exquisite sense and boundless 
sympathies of genius. It shines through mortal flesh 
“ like a lamp encased in alabaster.” It informs him at 
every point till it palpitates and glows with a white 
heat. Such a soul dare to do, and it finds a compensa- 
tion where others starve out the hours in waiting. And 
well for this old world if such an one go not carelessly 
through it, as some have gone, leaving but the echoes 
of their great names ! 

“ That’s a wonderful man I ” whispered a voice like 
that of my tutor, so close to my ear that I started and 
looked about me. Twice before I had been possessed 
of the odd feeling that Mr. Granville was near at hand, 
but had dismissed it, nor could I now discover him, and 
indeed did not expect to, and once more the picture re- 
turned to me of his moody struggles alone, as he 
stalked back and forth under the moon, dogged by 
those he had ruined. 

The guests began to stroll about the rooms and out 
on the broad verandas, and many fragments of conver- 
sation came to me as I sat and waited, with just a feel- 
ing of wrong gnawing at my core. A little, fiery-look- 
ing man, with restless black eyes, a close-cropped iron- 
gray poll, and bristling moustaches who came near me, 
smiling sharply, but graciously, was giving a rapid 
summary of the host. 

“ Wonderful he is indeed. You have heard him 
play. The nine muses breathe through him, and 
could not inform the world without him. He sings 
like Amphion’s lyre. And you should have heard him 


M. EE KOtJVlLLE. 223 

speak as I have, foremost among the orators of 
France ” 

“How now, Rouen,” broke in the rich voice of the 
Baron, who passing among his guests had heard the ex- 
citable tones of the panegyrist, “ How now ! are you 
tossing me upon hyperbole again ? You must know, 
gentlemen, my ever good friend, out of his love for me 
unconsciously exaggerates my virtues. Ah, Rouen ! 
could I lay bare your excellent heart, cynics might 
warm themselves. I should find nQthing there but 
honor and good will.” And the two gentlemen ex- 
changed glances as tender as those of women. 

I caught such fragments as, “A true gentleman; 
another Bayard ”, “A valiant soul in war ; kindling the 
edge of battle, then crashing among the foe like the 
bolt let slip by Jove” — “ Captured through treachery,” 
— “banished” — “exile sweetened as much as it can to 
the patriot and man offgenius.” 

“When came he here ? ” asked the same voice which 
had startled me once before, and the answer recalled to 
me the story told in the gloomy vaults under Jesse 
Schanck’s house. 

“ Twenty years ago he descended on this coast in a 
mighty storm, after driving about before wind and sea 
in the blackest night that ever puffed from the open 
door . of hell. The good ship parted : the uncon- 
querable lust of the sea snatched away many lives, and 
swallowed up great substance — ” 

“Yes, yes,” broke in the voice eager to the verge of 
discourtesy, “were you with him?” 

“I,” almost fiercely exclaimed the doctor, “I would 
never leave him ! The grand man ! And then he has 
need of me — would he had not — or not that way ! ” 

A moment afterward, a little further off, I heard a 
laugh that seemed both satirical and -triumphant, but I 


m 


PHANTOM 1)AAS. 


thought no more of it,. for in a breath some one began 
to sing. I looked up. It was Marie. Her voice was 
tinkling bell-like in fairy-land, and anon began to climb 
aloft and greet the morning like the lark, calling ii? 
mid-air; higher, higher ascending, caroling with saint' 
that greet the newly risen outside the jasper gates of 
heaven ; then down, down, thrillingly soft and sweet 
and comforting as the dove that falls at twilight on lie? 
lonely nest. 

“I would I top were a god of the stream, and saw 
my tears rushing away ! ” came a merry voice at my 
side. 

“ Jacquiline ! Jacquiline ! ” cried an excitable gentle- 
man, approaching us, “ A mad spirit, young master ! 
The great duke — ” 

“ Come, come, cousin,” mimicked the young girl, “ let 
me run over the titles which your tongue has worn so 
thin. Pierre, Prince Montbazon-, Duke of Bouillon, 
Count de Rouen, Baron de Rouville, Ambassador, to 
Russia under Louis XVI, Marshal of the Empire, the 
Member of the Privy Council. Many titles by inheri- 
tance, others by distinction, great in council, valiant in 
war, condemned by Robespierre, escaped by miracle, 
leader of royalists, captured in Germany, estates con- 
fiscated, banished by Napoleon, ship-wrecked on the 
American coast, recalled by Louis XVIII, and by 
Charles X, but invincible dread of the sea, and loss of 
most invaluable deeds and bonds, grants, and heredi- 
tary seals, retained him here. There, papa,” cried she 
to the physician, who had approached, “ was not that 
well done ! I have saved him an hour that he may de- 
vote to me hereafter. Come, Master Ruland ! ” And 
she took me by the arm and hurried me away, still say- 
ing, “I have spared you the relation in detail of the 


THE LOVERS. 225 

history of France, which the Moiftbazons, the Bouil- 
lons, the Rouens, the de Rouvilles created : ” 

“ You have a power of crystallizing history,” I said. 

“ Oh, I can get a drop out of a vapor. But you 
must be vexed at your hour’s waiting. The incom- 
parable stupidity of Jean caused him to bring you here, 
and to admit to the library some bold-eyed stranger in- 
stead. I greatly feared you had gone away, for I had 
searched everywhere for you. The guests are now de- 
parting, except those who remain all night with us, as 
it is known we embark early in the morning. Soon the 
house will be quiet, and Marie will be at liberty to 
greet you, for we found it impossible to gain Dr. 
Murray’s and papa’s consent to introduce you to the 
assembly, they both declaring the mental quietude of 
their patient demanded that he should make no new 
acquaintances before leaving America. And yet you 
do not look very formidable. But here we are at the 
library — but no, you can not enter here, where his Ex- 
cellency I perceive is already closeted with the stranger. 
Then I must lead you to the stone piazza, and leave you 
looking out to sea, for a few minutes.” 

I took the hand of this kind-hearted girl and kissed 
it respectfully, as she turned away and left me alone. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE LOVERS. 

The moor shed her glamorous day, and with it a 
stillness like that of noon. The sea was calling and 
enticing, and beyond the rocks T perceived the vague 
outlines of the ship which on the morrow must bear my 
love away. A trembling seized me and a warm pain, 
15 


226 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


'like quick-silver, ran through all my veins. The tall 
greyhound still stately though so old, came and stood 
by the stone pillar against which I leaned and mutely 
caressed me ; and dimly reaching abroad for friendly 
aid, I threw my arm about him, and continued to gaze 
out over the swelling tide. So absorbed was I in the 
many thoughts that went flying away with me high 
above the crooked wandering of the waves that, it was 
not until a little peal of laughter shook gayly at my 
ears that I turned and saw Jacqueline and Marie. 

“ Have you been dreaming long ? ” cried the former, 
as Marie gliding toward me with a gentle undulation 
put her soft, white hand in mine. 

“ Not long, but all my life ; ” I replied absently. 

Jacqueline laughed again. “ One would not think 
you so short as that ! ” she cried. “ But quick wit is 
short wit: it likes a hand to hand encounter, with a 
dagger 'of light, while }^our slow wit is ever wounding 
the future — all the present moments being long flown, 
and men forgetting the jest and the incentive that 
irked him to draw his awkward bow.” 

“ Never mind Jacqueline, Jude, for some- tricksy elf 
has set the magic horn to his lips and blows the mad- 
dest, merriest minuets in her brain. She does not like 
the most solemn word that will not mate itself to quips 
*and quirks and dance in a jest.” 

“ krom the same soil the gooseberry grows in, the 
rose extracts her sweetness, her carmines, her glamours 
and her romance,” returned the arch damsel; “and I 
have determined to crush the bloom of life for its wine, 
and not its acid. Sorrow enough, God wot, for those 
who search under the eaves of night for mildew.” 

“ That is true enough,” said Marie, continuing the 
train of thought, “ and not to feel too keenly the blasts 


THE LOVERS. 


227 


that besiege us^ we should merge ourselves into the for- 
tunes of the world.” 

“One can plainly see,” I called, softly, “no dark- 
some destiny has ever shut you in a narrow horizon, 
like a jailor. You do not deal with the world through 
surmise. You have found action outside of books. 
And as much as I love these, I must say the greatest 
and the wisest transmitted to their pages, shine but 
dimly, wanting the lustre and the grace of living 
men.” 

“ They can not take snuff and sneeze like Louis 
XIV,” gravely acquiesced Jacqueline. And at this she 
turned drolly* away, as if possessed of an important 
idea which she must entertain alone. 

As for Marie, she looked upon me with great kind- 
ness; and when a beautiful woman thus looks upon 
you, something of her engaging attributes inspire the 
heart and make a roseate hue deep down into the 
mind. 

“ I have so longed for this meeting,” I softly cried, 
“ it seems to me whole seas and seasons lie between 
this and our last one.” 

“ I am very glad indeed to see you,” and she smiled 
so sweetly the air became rich between us. “ I could 
not bear to go away without bidding you good-bye. 
A long journey, you know, if it involves separation, 
is always more toward eternity than to the living. It 
is on a road that does not turn. Jacqueline has told 
me how good Dr. Murray thought more of his pa- 
tient, than of my simple message, which he forgot to 
deliver. At first I feared you were ill, or had been 
obliged to go abroad, or — I know not what ; for I 
was sure you could not willingly remain away. Jean 
gave me the magnolias. I thought it so kind of you. 
‘See,’ I said to Jacqueline, ‘lie has not forgotten us!’ 


228 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


But when we were at last leaving, and you came not, 
I felt a real aching here,” and she pressed her hand 
gently over her heart, “ for I shall miss you very 
much, in that new life which awaits us in Lorraine.” 

“ Oh, Marie, I tell myself a thousand times a day, 
there is no life for me that involves a separation from 
you. I am like one tossing upon a profound sea, if he 
goes down he still takes himself with him, but if he 
can but reach the shore, wliat is there he may not ex- 
pect? ” 

A faint alarm appeared in her lucid eyes and she rose 
from the stone bench and stood a little way from me, 
in the attitude of listening, in a poise so perfect that no 
nymph, whose heart has sprung before her while her 
feet still linger, was ever half so graceful. 

“What is it, Jude?” and her voice was full of a 
tender self-reproach, “ I like you too well to have any 
sorrow come to you through me. It is but as your sis- 
ter that you care for me?” 

x “It is as something holier even than a sister, some- 
thing fonder and nearer ! I crave for you with all the 
tension of my soul. Without you I am lost, a ghost 
alive, a mistake of heaven. I love you ! ” 

She seemed to shrink within herself in despairing 
humility, her eyes trembling and her face all wan, like 
a moon with half the earth’s night on it. She looked 
up at the stars and hearkened to the moan of the sea, 
and then threw her arms before her, as if she was 
blinded and were unable either to fly or to defend 
herself. 

“ How small seems the earth and the night,” she said, 
“ but just room enough for you and me, and this haunt- 
ing spirit to come between us ! ” 

And then she made three steps toward me and put 
her hand upon my arm appealingly, and murmured, 


THE LOVERS. 


229 


“ How have I wronged you my brother ? or do you de- 
ceive yourself ? Has this parting wrought within you 
in a moment, all the deep emotions of friendly inter- 
course for the last ten years, and you fancy it love ? ” 
Feeling the trembling of my arm as the blood rose in 
me at her touch, she dropped her hand, clasping it be- 
fore her in the other, as she moved backward a little 
ways, continuing in a sad tone, “ Alas, I am about to 
lose my friend ! It would be madness to love me — *1 am 
already betrothed.” 

I groaned miserably and could not speak. 

“I know so little of love !” she exclaimed, “My 
life has been so calm and secluded, passed in inno- 
cence and without dreams ; not even in romances 
have I learned of passion. It is because of my inex- 
perience that I have given you this wound. And I 
tremble to think you may not hold me guiltless.” 

“Jf } t ou have never loved?” I cried, “then why are 
you betrothed? ” 

Something must have gone jarring and fierce with 
my words, for her eyes fell, and her voice though 
round and sweet came humbled, and gave me an 
indescribable pain. “ It was done e’er I was born. 
My father and him I call my uncle, to heal an 
old feud between rivals, made a troth for their chil- 
dren that should be, and I feel bound to it as though 
I had consented out of the heaven of unborn souls.” 

“ And have you sealed this betrothal with him you 
do not love ? ” 

“I have never seen him. But it has not disturbed 
my heart, for my teaching and religion sanctioned the 
union, and I felt when the hour came ” 

“ Oh, heaven ! ” I exclaimed, “ can it be possible that 
with your own will, you would give this matchless 
form of yours and the divinity of your mind, into 


230 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the keeping of one you have never seen and therefore 
can not love ! It is worse than vestal madness, for the 
nun in her living tomb, wears out the flesh between 
the narrow walls in prayers and vigils, struggling in 
transports to renounce the world in anticipation of the 
celestial bridegroom, but you sacrifice even your soul 
to a barren tryst, and give your person, like a coin to 
a miser. You are hidden away, you are lost from the 
commerce of bright looks, the interchange of values 
of the mind, the mart of love ! Oh, you have a cold 
heart ! ” 

“ Nay, do not tell me that ! ” she cried miserably. “ I 
have a warm .heart, and please God, a sincere one. I 
never heard a grief that did not wring me, nor ever 
came upon a joy that I could not share to a verge of 
tears. I have a poignard in my heart now, and I 
bleed inwardly at your sorrow. But what can I 
do? It is part of my spiritual essence that I should 
keep a vow, and if it were not could you honor me ? 
And yet if it were not, since I have told you that I have 
never loved, what is it that you expect of me ? Oh, do 
not be unjust ! ” 

“ Oh, if you were free — if you could but believe 
yourself free, as heaven knows you are, of any such 
blind engagement as this, even though you do not love 
me now, I might gain your heart some day, if love and 
eternal devotion through all the years to come can 
count for aught in your eyes. Did you truly love 
another, I have that within me could turn a dungeon 
door on desire though he should rage like a lost spirit 
hearing the songs of the blessed in paradise. But that 
you do not love and took no part in this betrothal, 
shakes me out of myself with a ' sort of righteous 
anger, and I can not consent to my ruin. I see stars 
in your eyes, May days in your smiles, a better Helen 


THE LOVERS. 


231 


in your face, there’s poetry in your motion, in your re- 
pose the despair of sculpture, — your mind to me is the 
plenteous kingdom in which are mines, and sailing seas 
of deep philosophy, and regal bowers for love — you 
lure me at a thousand coigns of vantage ! and shall I 
basely renounce you’ to one who will value you in a 
year like an old song sung ! For oh, believe it is as you 
will this love never came singly, and if you give me 
time enough you will love me too. There is no foot of 
this brown earth on which tragedy has not stalked or 
minstrels sung, we too have come our hour upon its 
broad theatre, shall all be lost t6 us because you 
.wander out of tone ? The. birds that people the winds 
mate fondl} r , and the tigress knows her own, the hind 

has chosen her fleet lord, but thou ” 

“ Oh, Jude, Jude ! ” she broke in stormily, “is love 
so fierce that he should shoot his lightnings all about 
me, lambent and biting, like persuading wrath ? What 
blest assurance has the yielding 'heart but that a 
stronger and a gloomier lord shall set himself to siege 
it, calling vengeance down from loyalty misplaced, and 
urging broken vows as though they were new compacts 
sealed, in heaven. Think you I have no duty but the 
one you claim ? This noble uncle who has reared me 
up, a thousand times has looked into my face beaming 
a joy caught from the days to come, praising the lover 
that I have not seen, coining a prince before me, one 
of gracious mien, of brows majestic, one all tenderness, 
a heart of longing and a mouth of praise. And never 
have I shrunk before him as he limned the goodly 
youth, but hung upon his pencil,, breathing light 
blushes. Now shall 1 falter at a word? become a neu- 
tral spirit? bring black melancholy to my guardian’s 
heart ? alas ! no stranger there ! and being questioned, 
answer, 4 This I do, renouncing all that you have sworn 


232 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


for me, and all that you have done for me, and all that 
you have hoped for me, not that I am less bound to 
you, or have proved errant, but that it may please one 
who swears he loves me, and fancies I may love him, 
too, if I but break with all my past ! ’ Were that well 
done ? I fancy that that calm majestic soul would say, 
‘ You give yourself right coldly to the youth, and seem 
less maiden, warming slowly to his suit ! Why not be 
set a prize for athletes, as of old, or bend to madrigals, 
orations, flatteries ? ’ ” 

“ Scorn me ! ” I cried, “ and yet you can not beat me 
from your threshold though you stung my love with 
whips and jibes. I will be your shadow when you walk 
forth in the sun of your prosperity ; you shall hear me 
calling in the winds that shake about your eaves. I 
shall moan downward through the music that you 
breathe into the spheres. I shall glide into your 
dreams, and phantom-like shall steal between you and 
the morn. It is my hand you shall clasp thinking you 
embrace another’s, and I shall sit longing in another’s 
eyes, and meet the roses of your mouth when you sub- 
mit or offer up yourself.” 

“ Oh, this is madness ! ” she exclaimed. “ Rouse up 
the man within you ! Let me hear invective wrath, 
sardonic laughter, sneers, or anything but this. The 
ship swings yonder in the bay, the night is waning, I 
must soon be gone. My brain is giddy and my . heart 
sinks fearfully. Have you no kindness for me at this 
last sad hour ? How could you thus embitter and make 
desolate our parting ? I have felt faint these many 
days thinking I must leave you. I had thought you 
would sustain me, though I knew you would feel sorrow 
too. But now ! ” 

“ Oh, I have done ! I will not vex you with a fresh 


THE LOVERS. 


233 


assault. Your hand upon this parting — Sweet, good 
bye ! ” 

“ What, would you leave me thus ! ” for I had turned 
away. “ Are all your vows, emptied so soon ? Love, I 
have heard a wayward and capricious god ! I cannot 
have you leave me thus. It is not a fit ending to a. 
brave and gentle friendship that you thus should wrench 
yourself away, like an oak torn root and branch by a 
whirlwind out of a summer scene. Oh, I shall weep 
for this when I am far away.” 

“ What would you have of me ? ” I said. “ We can 
never meet again upon the old footing. Truly, were . 
you not going from this strand to-morrow, I must go 
instead. The sight of you glowing through all your 
charms like a star dazzling upon the morn, would be a 
poison to me, and breed madness here.” 

“ Ah, that comes curdling through me ! Will you 
be happier when I’m gone ? I shall be lonelier — some.- 
thing desolate creeps in on me like the great moonless 
shadow of the night. We were so innocent, and our 
companionship a holy thing — What will you do when 
I am gone ? ” 

“ I cannot change my nature in a day. For I have 
been taught dreams, and have been hushed in mysteries 
so long, their stress has driven me far from the bluff 
courage of the world. But I shall not sit down de- 
spairing. Nor shall I take one rebuff or ten. Truly, 
where you shine far off making a world about you, I 
shall one day come. I have not the grace to die out of 
time and leave you a serene sovereignty. I shall bring 
you perturbations and jar your atoms into new affini- 
ties.” 

But as I looked at her and saw the grievous working 
of her face, the struggle between duty and dawning 
love, had I not felt intuitively how it must end, I could 


234 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


have smitten myself down with my own dagger rather 
than have prolonged her trial. A fear of herself was 
growing on her, and she looked at me with beseeching 
startled eyes. 

“ Men have emerged from dangerous illnesses,” she 
murmured, “as if they had been wrought over and be- 
come new souls. You have disturbed me into newer 
thoughts, misgivings, fears, relentings.” Then after a 
pause she added, “ This world has changed for me 
within the hour, I shall never know peace again.” 

I held out my arms to her imploringly, but she 
threw her hands wildly between us. “ You forget,” she 
cried, “ I have been long foresworn ! ” 

“ No hereditary lover shall claim that you were en- 
tailed to him before you were born,” I returned. “ I 
will measure conclusions with him sharper than swords. 
Do you think I have no merit? Was I tossed into the 
world when chaos was rocking ? I am born of the soil, 
and the wind and the wave of this old star, and I have 
flown hither through ancestral veins from the far off 
dawn of time. The pulses of eternity have heaved me 
from noon to noon in unremembered days, but I am 
brought face to face with you at last. I know you love 
me, and may I be blotted back to chaos ere I give you 
up ! ” 

Suddenly our arms were about each other in a delirious 
embrace, her heart panting deliciously against my own. 
Her upturned face, fragrant and rich as that of a god- 
dess, returned the rapture of my eyes, and all the world 
was gone away from us as utterly as though we floated 
two spirits, through the glamorous haze of midnight 
worlds. I heard as if afar off, some envious bird of the 
night shaking out an angry melody in the lilac copse, 
and thought how human-musical w r as the sound, as 
though Granville breathed into his magic flute. At 


$HE LOVERS. 


235 


that moment M. de Rouville stood before us regarding 
us with strange, mysterious eyes, that seemed to see 
and yet not to see ; something hollow and mournful 
looked through him, and noiselessly as a phantom he 
turned away. Turning, still embracing, we followed 
him with our eyes, until he had faded quite into the 
night. 

At that moment a shudder passed through Marie, as 
if something ominous struck to her heart. Slowly she 
uncoiled her arms and stood erect, superb and dazzling, 
but the glory was changing in her face to anguish. 

“Farewell!” she whispered mournfully. “It must 
not be. Now am I neither yours nor another’s. I have 
sinned in forgetting. I will immure myself in a con- 
vent, for I am no longer wortjiy of human love.” 

I caught at her fiercely, but she eluded my grasp. 
At that moment Jacqueline appeared, looking down- 
cast, and stood a short way off as if to remind me that 
our interview was over. 

I took Marie’s hand in mine. It was cold and im- 
passive, though it trembled and warmed in my keeping. 
“Be true to me for a year,” I murmured, as I kissed it, 
and she bowed meekly receding, smiling upon me at 
the last with sweet pathetic mouth. 

As I w T alked slowly away, I turned frequently to look 
at the great old mansion, its many lights dying out, and 
a drowsy silence gathering about it. I mounted Selim 
and rode" once about the grounds, and then with scarce 
strength enough to turn away, I took the road that led 
by the sea-side, the moon being now low down, and 
making the ship I sought out from all others, to appear 
huge on the rocking waves. Once I heard, or fancied 
I heard the sound of music, and thought I described 
M. de Rouville pacing along the sands. I rubbed my 
eyes, and glanced before me, but saw nothing, though 


236 PHANTOM BAYS. 

later I came on two men walking side by side, who 
turned into some dewy path across the fields and dis- 
appeared behind the hedges. I was now at the entrance 
to the park, and seemingly of his own volition, Selim 
turned into it, and I came back to the mansion. A 
light was yet burning in Marie’s room, and kissing my 
hand fervently toward it, I stopped my horse, and con- 
tinued to gaze upon it, both of us so silent that I heard 
the sound of a marmot burrowing in the earth a short 
way off, and saw the ground heaving. The light went 
out, and breathing an impassioned prayer for the safety 
of my love, I once more turned toward home. 

By an odd chance I took the way that led by Jesse 
Schanck’s vast, scowling house, and though I thought 
so little of it at the time, my mind being preoccupied 
with Marie, I had cause to remember afterward the 
faint and lulling sounds that breathed stilly but en- 
trancing from out the shadows of its walls. They 
seemed to abide in me like whispering spirits, recalling 
the past, and when T had reached my home I was lying 
awake full of delicious reveries. I fancied somewhere 
in the small hours of the morning, that I heard myste- 
rious noises in Tom’s old room, as of one gliding with 
stealthy step, faint creakings of the floor, a door open- 
ing stilly, and I felt rather than heard someone de- 
scending the stairs and going across the lawn. Was it 
the memory of wizard strains that thus deceived me, 
or was it the sight of the baron which recalled uncon- 
scious intimations of my long lost, rare old friend ? 


THE CONFLICT* 


237 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE CONFLICT. 

The day was yet young, -thotigh it moved a glowing 
splendor through all the opulent marches of the morn, 
when, as I sat under the great trees in our orchard, 
whither I had gone to brood alone, I perceived Mr. 
Granville coming toward me. He bore in his hand a 
rather bulky leathern bag, and his head was drooping, 
as if he were in deep thought. He did not see me, but 
felt by intuition that some one was nigh, and circuit- 
ously avoiding me, he strode moodily over the turf and 
went into a deeper solitude. 

I leaned forward and watched him with a languid 
curiosity, but presently resuming m}^ vacuous stare into 
the heavens, I invoked all of beauty and brilliancy I 
had so lately seen and heard, and twenty times had I 
thrilled at the remembered touch of Marie’s hand, the 
intense meaning of her eyes, the tender fluting of her 
voice, and had recalled the noble presence of her uncle, 
of whom I felt I should some day require* so much, 
when it began to dawn upon me that one of those sud- 
den whirlwinds that vex a * summer landscape, as 
though the souls of dervishes long dead burst down 
the sky, was ruffling the late flowers and tossing the 
apple boughs above me. It was full of burning frag- 
ments of paper, and floating ashes of manuscript 
which yet showed a sort of ghostly tracing of the pen, 
and directly a desperate leaf, illumined on all its edges 
with flameless fire, cast itself down upon me. I caught 


238 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


an attractive word or two, and extinguishing the fire, I 
read, in my tutor’s well known hand, 

“ How many in this wondrous world of ours 
From shepherd’s loins, or scullion’s baser blood. 

Have risen from exhalations to the stars ! 

Before them at the threshold, strange, and vast, 

As they had peered into another world, 

Lay glittering populous empires, proud and old, 

And seas that toiled with fleets like dragons chained, 
And envoys long at parle, squadrons afield, 

Men murmuring hoarse, and rumor on their tongues 
Finding fleet stepping, arson with his torch 
Giving wolf’s eyes to darkness, and the wand 
Of crafty statesmen lulling reason down 
With specious soft enchantments— Yea, all these 
Before them at the threshold strange and vast, 

And they, unknown, jostled even by slaves! ” 

What more there had been was already burned away, 
but I caught enough to know that this was Charmian’s 
speech in a tragedy he had written. And there were 
enough ashen pages quivering here and there on the 
grass to convince me that the bulk of two or three 
goodly volumes had been sacrificed on the altar of a 
mightier deity. That some strong convulsion, in his 
nature had rived the ancient bounds, and given new 
tenor to his intellectual mind was but too apparent. 

I arose and walked up the avenue toward him, but 
when I saw him absorbed b'efore the funeral pyre of 
Ins past, and still feeding the. flames with the remnant 
of papers he held in his hands, I felt my presence 
would be inopportune, and so I withdrew to my rustic 
seat and awaited the result of the event. 

In no long time I heard him coming. His eyes were 
fixed against some peep-hole of fortune, behind which 
all his being dilated and assumed a succession of lordly 
• airs. He seemed to me to dwarf the day, so majestic was 


THE CONFLICT. 


239 


his countenance. Evidently he had gotten a victory over 
fate, through some inspiration that was rooting like a 
young oak and meant to spread abroad for a cycle. 

“ Young dreamer ! ” he called to me, “ to what fancies 
are you fixing tunes in this green nook of the morn- 
ing? Dreams are but odors: they effeminate the mind. 
The brave spirit precipitates itself in action, like a 
tumbling torrent rending the rocks and putting bound- 
aries to empire. Day, you perceive, lies a vast 
splendor on this upward swell of the planet, and 
while the old lantern is swung aloft, let us not sit 
dazed and blinking ourselves back into darkness, as the 
night birds do.” 

“Have you come into your inheritance?” I asked. 

“I shall not inherit:” was the proud repty, “ but I 
shall match my wits against another’s and where I win 
I shall not scruple to claim my vantage. If I have 
kindred in this world I know them not. Like Arthur 
of old, I have been thrown up a waif of the sea, and 
like him the unknown spirits shall claim me and bear 
me away, but before I go, I mean to found me that 
empire in men’s minds, I have so long foreshadowed, 
and lord it if but for a day.” 

“But you have destroyed all your credentials to that 
high throne ! ” I said, greatly wondering at the man. 

“I have but burned the bridges behind me, meaning 
never, in my desperation to return to letters. Like the 
trees in this old orchard, I have grown a long time 
through many experiences, before my thoughts have 
fruited on the boughs, and these I have destroyed and 
cannot mould them anew, for in poetry as in sculpture, 
form is essential, to almost the last degree. Let the 
marble molder, and the immortal purpose is vanished 
with the beauty forever, and if the verse lose its airy 
elegance and haunting shape, the soul of it may creep 


240 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


in prose, but it can no longer charm and extort the 
plaudits of the world. How often when, as I have 
burned out the midnight and seen the latest stars to 
bed, toiling with infinite pain to reach the highest 
measures of the poet’s art, I have felt with feverish 
qualm how ineffectual the labor and the glory was 
to that immediate possession of power which the un- 
conquerable will can gain. Let him prate who will 
of the immortality of fame, I had rather be housed 
in my own palace than know that my book will be, 
some ten generations hence, in the palace of a world- 
ling who can never be aught to me. I had rather be 
Alexander hoarding the Iliad in jewelled casket, than 
Homer at his dim wanderings centuries before.” 

“And I — I had rather be Homer!” I cried. 

“And I had rather be Jesse Schanck ” 

He had but opened his lips, and as if he had been a 
wizard* calling his familiar friend, the old miser stood 
suddenly before us. Never had lie looked so repulsive, 
so weather-beaten, dark, and bitter. His round eyes 
were rolling with a savage lustre, and though about 
them the veins were shot through with purple drops, 
his lips were white and wetted by wrath to the keen- 
ness of the murderer’s blade. He was so gaunt, so 
malignant, cruel, and vibrating with his passion from 
feet to head, that I shuddered at the semblance he 
bore to a serpent that had thrown itself erect, and 
was in that moment about to discharge its virulence 
upon men. 

When will it please you, sir,” he began with mock 
humility, doffing his greasy beaver to Mr. Granville, 
“ W hen will it please you, sir, to come and take posses- 
sion of tue few treasures 1 have remaining ? Here is 
the key to my strong box. f have labored mightily, 
scheming and amassing to the winter of my age, press- 


THE CONFLICT. 


241 


ing thought from the thinnest fibril of my brain, when 
the large conception was expended, that I might leave 
no tax-gatherer in the remotest, sterile, territory of 
my mind uncalled upon, to contribute his quota to the 
strong purpose of my life. Until last night I had sup- 
posed that I was driven by the racking fiends to some 
other end, but I perceive now, all this tillage was for 
your harvest. You are the heir, and I the mere hus- 
bandman.” 

“What accursed mummery is this?” coldly ex- 
claimed Granville. 

“Ah, sir,” continued the old man, “you call it mum- 
mery ! I beg you will not proceed to strike your serv- 
ant ! These sinews have oft cracked about my old 
bones like drivers’ lashes, to hurry me in your affairs. 
When I have lain down upon the drowsy hush of mid- 
night’s chime, the advancing whirl of the morrow has 
made a hollow sounding in my ears to call me away 
upon your business before the dawn. I have been faith- 
ful to you — have you no word of praise ? And yet it 
irks me to a feeble laughter to see you stealing between 
the midnight and that dawn to filch from your own cof- 
fers ! ” 

At this Mr. Granville could not so contain his spirit 
but his eyes wavered as candles do when a biting wind 
passes over their flames. I plainly saw that these two 
men feared each other, but because the elder might be 
the weaker, his hatred seemed the deeper. Another 
thing struck me, as by a spark thrown out that, the 
same passions in their vehemence, awaken the same fa- 
cial expression in men, for suddenly, as the two glared 
upon each other with a fixed resolution, I noticed how 
the bold eyes of Mr. Granville were 'mated by the inso- 
lent orbs of his enemy, and how the vulturine aspect 
of Jesse Schanck was recalled in a lesser degree by 
1G 


242 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the acquiline nose and harshness of feature in the 
younger. 

“ Are your veins yet drenched with wine, old man,” 
slowly spoke Mr. Granville, “that you thus forget your- 
self? Or do the infirmities of age topple your inner 
battlements — ” 

“ Do not approach me on stilts of language ! ” burst 
forth the usurer, “You crept insidiously enough last 
night when you drugged my wine that time the boy 
was gone for the lantern. And you returned meanly 
enough, some hours later, while I was plunged in the 
coarse sleep of the bottle — but I have come in broad 
day-light to demand the gold and jewels you abstracted, 
and the papers more valuable still, that you haye borne 
away.” 

With a smothered cry Mr. Granville had caught him 
by the throat while curses gurgled in his own. Twice 
he raised his fist to smite his accuser in the face, but 
mastering himself with a mighty struggle, and with an 
air as if he disdained himself for this show of passion, 
he gently released the miser, and bowing toward him 
said, “ I beg your pardon that I should so far have lost 
myself as to let your misguided, venomous tongue 
make me forget my self-respect, and I wish I could 
add, the respect due to honorable old age.” 

But as to Jesse Schanck, not a moment was he di- 
verted, and he evidently looked upon the action as a 
subterfuge. “The papers!” he urged, “where are the 
papers ? Give me back the papers, and you may keep 
the jewels ! Come, the bonds, the parchments.” 

Suddenly his eyes fell from Mr. Granville’s to the green 
turf light!}' littered* with ashen manuscript. The wind 
had died away, and the multitude of little zephyrs 
which followed in its train like the lithesome pages and 
maids of honor that follow royalty, were tilting and 


THE CONFLICT. 248 

puffing these breaths of tissues in all directions in the 
daintiest sport. 

“Great God!” he cried, his fingers working in a 
convulsion of pain, “ have you been idiot enough to 
burn bonds and deeds that might have bought 
the county ! ” And he ran hither and thither vainly 
endeavoring' to clutch them, or by stooping to de- 
cipher one word of the ghostly writing. 

I have never been slow to meet with what generosity ' 
I could, even the distress of an enemy, and when my old 
tutor turned- upon me, perhaps unknowingly, a mute 
appeal, I sprung to his side and clasped my hand into 
his with a fervor that implied belief and trust, and 
deepest kindness of the soul, but even as our spirits 
flowed into each other, by one of those old revulsions, 
as if a spirit within, deeper than our own souls would 
mockingly hold up the reverse of every picture, there 
came over me the many seeming clues which in the 
hands of a master of the law Would go far toward con- 
victing him. And the moment these came into my 
mind they began to assume darker and darker propor- 
tions. And as if he felt friendship’s roots withering as 
they struck into his blood, Mr. Granville firmly disen- 
gaged his hand and left* me. I returned to the rustic 
seat and sank down upon it heavy as lead; 

“ Mr. Schanck,” he called, give yourself no further 
trouble about those ashes. They represent what were 
private papers of my own, of little value even to me, 
before they were burned, and less than that to any one 
in the world now. But if you believe I have wronged 
you, make your appeal to the law and I will answer 
you.” 

“ I will appeal to that which makes the law ; the 
sovereign and not the creature,” harshly returned the 


m 


phantom hays. 


other. “As if one must start the ponderous machinery 
of the courts to get justice perverted instead of done !” 

“ Only rouges cry out against it ! ” sneered Gran- 
ville. 

“Then it is a wonder that you recommend it! I 
never go into a court but I laugh within me to see all 
those solemn fools who felloe the wheels of the great 
engine that moves so orderly, but is presided over by no 
genius. The writs are served, the litigants arrive, the 
quarrel foments, the learned counsel cobweb the tem- 
ple windows, the judge propounds, and twelve hard- 
headed knaves in fustian, in. haste to get back to their 
shops and barns, drearily yawning out at their mouths 
what so lately, was dinned in at their ears, pull straws 
to decide, and the farce is at an end.” 

It amazed me to see how this stern, corrosive mind 
could, because of the universal hatred it contained, go 
out of its way for a satiric fling at the law, when every 
muscle working at its tension, the face distorted, the * 
eyes unveiling the volcanic fires showed, that the soul 
was strained and raging like the pent blasts that crack 
the caverns. 

“ I do not wonder that you fear the last resort of 
honest men,” fell Mr. Granville’s voice as if out of air, 
so hollow did it sound. “ I would make such an ex- 
posure of you there as would pull down upon you the 
ill-gotten gains with which you now fence yourself, and 
would ruin you utterly. I know not aught of your 
bonds, which I shrewdly suspect to be somebody else’s 
bonds ; Jude’s, here, mayhap; nor of your gold, if it is 
your gold. I see you wince. I could make that 
tongue of yours prove treacherous to the master for 
whom it has fawned, and lied, and swaggered through 
two generations. Go your way ! Your time has not 


THE CONFLICT. 245 

yet come. But I shall be in at the death, and through 
me you shall feel many torments at that hour.” ' 

“ One word ! ” hissed the miser, vibrating, and 
glowering upon him with an evil fascination : and then 
throwing his arms aloft in a grievous outburst, he ex- 
claimed, “ Oh, for that tall son I should have had ! had 
not the accursed pirates drowned him years ago ! ” And 
quite beside himself, he seemed to talk at random, call- 
ing, “ Did I not show a strong aversion to you from the 
very first, and did I ever disguise it?” 

“ You were different from other men,” sneered Gran- 
ville, “ and I took it as a sort of flattery, as some wines 
are harsh but yet intoxicating.” 

- “ Did I ever ask you to my house ? ” 

“ Did the tiger ever ask the hunter ? but he came, 
all the same. Neither do you court exposure, nor ig- 
nominious death, but they are on their way ! ” 

Stung by this, the old man again threw his rugged 
arms into the air with a silent invocation, but he re- 
sumed his questioning, in the same hissing tone. And 
my father whom I had lately noticed walking to and 
fro, with nervous abrupt steps, and gradually nearing 
us, had now approached so closely that I could see the 
alarm upon his face, and he could hear what followed. 

“After you had drugged me, and discovered the 
many costly things I have kept inviolate these twenty 
years, for the sake of the rightful heir, when he shall 
come, where did you go?” 

“ I will let the rightful heir answer,” sneered his op- 
ponent, “tell him, Jude.” 

And at this he gave me a thrilling look that made my 
heart beat up into my throat, and then subside with a 
feeling of shame, for I knew he said it to tantalize both 
the userer and me, and to recall to me the \vords he 
had used, when he had' said I should be my Uncle Jesse’s 


246 


PHAKTOM DAYS. 


heir: But what did I know of his disposition of himself 
after his interview with Miss Jude? He had not re- 
turned to his room all night. And then his eager, 
rapacious eyes, gloating over the jewels and gold his 
subtle diplomacy had caused to be unearthed, would 
shine back into my memory with a sinister glare ! And 
then, too, how he had clutched feverishly at the old 
parchments in the counting-room!' Looking up, I 
found the old man regarding me coldly, if not disdain- 
fully, and my eyes faltered and fell. At this he turned 
upon my tutor with savage persistence. 

“ He will not lie for you ! Has the wily cunning of 
your tongue unwound and slipped away ? Was not that 
you who played a deep, low strain, thin and penetrating, 
on a violin, under my windows about two o’clock in the 
morning ? ” 

“ It was probably your evil genius preparing to take 
his 'flight ; even rats, you know, will leave a sinking 
ship.” 

“ Then it is strange you did not leave the New York 
and Rondaine R. R. before the wreck ! ” he shouted 
with a savage burst of laughter, which made Mr. 
Granville win.ce; when he continued, — “Will you 
deny that you entered my house through the iron shut- 
ters which, because of the drug you gave me, for the 
the first time in my life I left unbarred? Did you not 
burn the papers this morning that you feared to ne- 
gotiate? Are you not suddenly preparing to leave the 
town, when you have given these people to under- 
stand that you meant to stay with them for a month to 
come ? ” 

“ Insidious conspirator ! ” cried the tutor, “ how well 
you lay your train ! I do not believe you have been 
robbed! Take us to your house and show us the 
proofs of your loss ! You wish to ruin me — I will move 


THE CONFLICT. 


247 


heaven and earth to circumvent you, and expose your 
hidden crimes ! ” 

“I, a conspirator! Was it I that drugged the wine? 
or signalled in the dark with a violin ? or filched in- 
estimable records from my vaults ? or made this morn- 
ing bon-fire of old bonds? Oh, shameless wretch ! ” 

“ Enough of that ! I will guarantee to drink all the 
wine in your cellar, provided it is as untampered with 
as that which you drank last night. As to the 
papers I have burned this morning, as I have told 
you before, they are private manuscript of my own, 
but Jude has saved as important a fragment of them as 
any other ” 

At this the myriad-wrinkled man sprang forward, and 
rudely seized the scrap I offered him. It shook in his 
hand from the excitement under which he labored. 
But when he had read it, he gave a high, derisive laugh, 
from which Mr. Granville perceptibly recoiled, such 
love does a man have for the child of his brain. 

44 This philosophy is as false as the writer; ! ” sneered 
the banker. 44 No man can rise above his condition ex- 
cept the propulsion comes from a long way up the 
stream. Himself contributes very little to the attain- 
ment. But, pah ! this is bait for the unwary. I see* 
like a specialist in crime, you mean not to leave the 
smallest detail of plausible innocence unfixed. It is 
only my early pursuit that has kept you from suborn- 
ing the boy. In that consists the gap where evidence 
enters. For know you, David Ruland,” turning toward 
my father, 44 your ears have itched long enough — I have 
been robbed ! Rich old bonds, fairly crusted with in- 
terest: deeds that would cover more ground than the 
enchanted tent; jewels that would have made dead 
men’s eyes to sparkle- — gone ! gone ! And here stand 
the conspirators- ! ” 


248 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


My father’s face wizened, all his fingers flew outward. 
He did not utter a word, but continued to stare at his 
brother-in-law, or turned a lack-lustre eye on us while 
he waited his cue, for he was wholly the property of the 
userer. 

“ Why,” said I, suddenly recollecting what I had seen, 
“you hid handsfull of jewels under your parlor -floor 
last night. I saw you at it an hour afterward.” 

“You saw me!” screamed the old man, shedding a 
demoniac glare upon me, “ and yet they’re gone, gone ! 
Not one left. Ha ! Ha ! we come like sleuth-hounds on 
the game ! Where are the jewels ? Empty your avari- 
cious pockets ! How many are in yours, Granville ? ” 

“ I have only the single old coin in the purse you 
gave me last night,” quoth he. 

“That I gave. you! I remember nothing, after you 
drugged my wine. Saw you me ever drink wine, 
David? You shake your sapient head. And yet I did 
last night. This mesmerizer had me in his clutch ! I 
gave you a coin ? ” 

“ Yes, a single coin, this Jude knows. If I have 
more I am at your mercy.” And he drew the purse 
from his pocket, and emptied it into his hand. A dozen 
ancient coins, of exceeding worth because of their 
rarity, dropped into his palm, and in the midst of them 
a single diamond blazed back at the morning. The 
tutor petrified, continued to gaze upon them. 

His malignant accuser with a phrensied shout, 
clutched my father, and drew him up to look. The 
coins, as I afterward learned, bore the stamp of a power- 
ful mediseval family of Germany, and represented his- 
torical events with which they were connected. 

“ Some grave mistake is here,” muttered the per- 
plexed Granville, “ I showed the coin to two gentlemen 


THE CONFLICT. 


249 


last night. They can explain the increase. I will go 
to them at once. You shall hear from me anon.” 

u No, no ! ” cried the miser, “you do not escape me 
so. You are a shrewd one. I plainly perceive you 
must be commerced with. Upon what terms do you 
hold the papers ? ” 

But here Mr. Granville tore himself loose, although 
my father had also laid hands on him, quavering in a 
grewsome voice, “The papers— how do you hold the 
papers ? ” 

“ Let him go ! ” I called, “ Oh, do not detain him. 
Indeed it must be as he says. He will bring you proof 
of that ! ” 

At this Jesse Schanck turned upon me a venomous 
face. 

“ It is not enough, beggar’s brat ! ” he hissed, “ that 
you have been nourished these twenty years in this 
honest man’s family, on the pabulum of charity, but 
that you must now turn upon us, and seek to shield 
and abet the monster who has undone us all ? ” 

“ What do you mean ? ” I cried defiantly, thrilled 
with the electric hope that his passion would betray the 
secret I believed he possessed. And quick as a flash 
of lightning displays the things of day shrouded under 
the pall of night, I saw my way from false position to 
hereditary claims and honored love. I thought to goad 
him on, “ What do you mean, malevolent old man ! 
The jewels and the bonds you so bemoan, you dare not 
claim before the law, for you robbed them from drown- 
ing men ” 

“ Do you hear him, David?” he shouted insanely, “I 
command you to turn the viper from your door ! Let 
him find his crazy father and begone ! ” 

“ Who is my father ? ” 

“ Tom Crispin 1 ” 


250 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


My heart gave a terrible thud, and I fell forward into 
the warm grass. I have but a confused sense of what 
followed, dimly recollecting that it was Mr. Granville 
who turned my face upward, and unloosed my cravat, 
and seeing as through a mist that his face wore an un- 
sympathetic, sober expression, quite apart from the con- 
cern he entertained for his own affairs. And I recall 
he left me hastily, as soon as I looked intelligently 
about me, muttering something as to the imminence of 
his business. Jesse Schanck was also gone, and David 
Ruland uneasily stepping about was sharpening a pen- 
cil, knitting his feeble brows and whispering to himself. 
I looked appealingly at him, but he did not notice it, 
his face was vacant and cold, and presently he began 
one of those abstruse problems in arithmetic with which 
he was wont to puzzle his brain. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

AS A TALE THAT -IS TOLD. 

I walked slowly toward the house with that sense 
of alienation which comes over one who is leaving a 
familiar haunt forever. The orchard seemed to whis- 
per darkly .behind me as I walked, and the sombre 
house put on a forbidding frown : even the sun, I 
thought, though now hard upon mid-day, had shrunk 
further into the sky, and shed yellow vapors instead 
of wholesome light. The portraits in the wide, dim 
hall, methought, leered at each other as T heavily lifted 
myself along the stairs. I paused before that half 
open door through which I must pass into my mother’s 
room — for mother, I yet felt that kind, sorrowful, beau- 
tiful woman to be. My knock on the panel evoked a 


AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD. 


251 


hollow, unaccustomed sound. I pushed the door aside 
as was my wont, and stood before her. 

“Are you my mother?” 

She struggled to rise, a look of terror on her face. I 
could see her bosom heave tumultuously, and heard the 
beating of her heart. She held out her arms toward 
me and in a moment we were clasped in a fervent em- 
brace. “ Are you my mother? ” I whispered huskily, 
without looking up. There was .a murmur in her 
throat, and she unclasped her arms only to catch them 
convulsively about her heart, looking quite pale and 
wild. She smiled faintly as if to assure me, and drew 
me to her again. Fool that I was! I thought no more 
of it, in the absorbing pain of her reply, 

“ I am not your mother ! ” 

Such a silence came after that, it seemed the earth 
fell away from me, and my own members dissolved and- 
left me but a single thought burning alone in the midst 
of a waste. I heard the death-watch ticking in the 
wall; the leaves, the murmurous tongues of trees, 
whispering uneasily about the house; and further off 
in abyssmal depths the sea’s monotonous heart throb- 
bing against the shore. Not to have parentage, or to 
be as I drearily forboded, the child of mystery forever, 
did not seem better than never to have been ; and I 
dimly wondered, — so unsubstantial does the world be- 
come to us at times, the souls flitting in and out, like 
moths about a Summer evening candle, — I dimly won- 
dered whether I might not be in some long hopeless 
dream, from which I should awaken in the morning of 
a better world. But yet 1 feared to ask this gentle 
soul the one question that stood, out foremost, like a 
forlorn hope deploying before a disastrous battle. 

“I have that to tell you,” she began, at last, her low 
voice full of a beseeching tenderness, with her dark 


252 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


eyes bending upon me out of their solitudes, impressing 
me that her life had been as lonely as mine : “ I have 
that to tell you which I had hoped these latter years, 
might never be mine to impart, but which I instinct- 
ively perceive has been rendered necessary by that 
evil spirit who darkens daily about this house. Long 
have his fangs been fastened in our substance, but now, 
more corrosive than time, he begins to gnaw our heart- 
strings ! 

“ Oh, what a darksome thing is life ! and cince I 
thought it a morning journey to paradise, so fair it 
seemed to me then. 

“ When I was sometime wed, the glamours of life 
already on the wane, there came to me a little son, 
sweet and fragrant as a flower dropped out of heaven, 
and all my longings went into the child ; and so far 
ran my thoughts, like light that shoots to the day’s end 
and the sun just risen! that I fondly saw in him per- 
fected all the aspirations that were blighted in me. 
But the jealous divinities bereft me of him, before I 
had clasped him to my bosom one little year. What a 
wrench there was at my heart when his eyes closed in 
this world to open in the marvelous city of God ! So 
young, so bright, so fitted for the aureola of life, and 
gone so §0011. When I looked forward to the years 
that might be mine, interminable vistas opened before 
me, and I thought of all the stately march of time, the 
magnificent development of the race, the immortalities 
that find their footing here, which he should never see ! 
When I thought of how he might have grown up in 
honor, become the sparkling jewel in a golden cirque 
of friends, infinite pity mixed with my anguish of heart! 
But it is well the dead may not come again, else were 
I shamed utterly in my wasted life, by the luminous 
eyes I may not see ! 


AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD. 253 

“ His death occurred during our absence in a distant 
city, and I had returned home one gloomy day, soon 
after, before any of my relatives even, or nearest 
neighbors had heard of my loss. During the night, 
the wind which had been rising momently, increased 
to a furious hurricane, and in the .darkness, between 
murderous claps of thunder, the sound of minute guns 
was heard, and fires were lighted on the shore to warn 
the distressed ship, but a great sea drove her on the 
rocks and burst her asunder. Numbers of unfortunate 
people were drowned, even little children clinging to 
their mothers. I had gone with my household to help 
•rescue the unfortunate ones. Suddenly a man of 
noble appearance, but with a face stricken with ter- 
ror from its just expression, was cast struggling almost 
at my very feet, and in his arms he held' an infant 
which yet moved and uttered a plaintive cry. So far 
spent was the man that he lay on the sand as if breath- 
ing his last. I called loudly for help, for I had been 
standing apart, the people having all rushed away to 
another part of the beach where a long boat had been 
thrown ashore with drowned wretches clinging to it. 
A common sailor, one who had also been recovered from 
the wreck* and who had been wringing his hands and 
moaning like one distraught, came hurriedly to the 
stranger and turned his face toward one of the dying 
bon-fires, and uttered a piercing cry. He took the 
child, and hurriedly placed him in my arms, while he 
ran back to chafe the stranger’s flesh, dragging him 
toward the fire. Almost in a minute as I stood well 
back into the shadow, wrapping the baby in my cloak, 
a tall fiendish man, dripping from the surf, came hast- 
ily up, and the reviving gentleman, as if he recognized 
in him an evil agent and sought to avoid him, struggled 
up to his feet, looking wildly about him, and crying in 


254 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


heart-rending accents upon his child, he rushed again 
into the surf, and was seen no more. The sailor also, 
as if in dread, had disappeared and the tall man had 
followed him, without concerning himself for the fate 
of the drowning one. 

“It was all done in the twinkling of an eye, and no 
outcry of mine in the furious blast could have reached 
him. In an agony of terror I hurried home with the 
little one, where I succeeded with warmth and nourish- 
ment in restoring it, but no one came to claim it, nor 
could we ever learn tidings of parent or guardian, 
neither could the sailor.be found. The rescued people 
were mostly servants or dependents of those who were 
drowned, and while they loudly bewailed their own 
misfortunes, seemed to know little of their masters, and 
nothing of the child. After we had advertised in New 
York and Paris papers and could gain no information, 
with the consent of my husband I reared the infant as 
my own, and we gave him the name of Jude, after our 
lost one. Only Judge Brief, in whose name we had 
advertised, and who made the inquiries for us, knew 
but that you were really our own, since, being sore for 
the death of my son, seeing how readily they all mis- 
took you for him, we never undeceived them.” 

I still delayed to ask the question that ever sprouted 
on my tongue, even keeping it in the back ground while 
I invented others — “ Were there no marks on my cloth- 
ing, or about my person, that would lead to my identi- 
fication ? Why did you not advertise for the sailor? 
Was there no piece of property washed ashore which 
would have led to a clue ? Why had I never been told 
this story before ? ” 

I must have spoken with sharp eagerness, for the 
sweet lady looked down for a moment, and crossed her 
hands meekly on her breast. 


AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD. 


m 


“Alas, Jude, we did all things to restore you to your 
family, even offering the sailor a reward if he would 
make himself known, or put himself in communication, 
but naught availed. I kept your clothing, though 
apart from its beautiful embroidery, nothing would 
help, in it, to establish your origin. Neither was there 
ever found any goods, to my knowledge, after that fatal 
night. At the time, large quantities came ashore, but 
were said to have been all stolen before the dawn. 
There were some strange stories whispered about this 
but they finally died away. 

“I felt for a time that God had sent you to my for- 
lorn heart to take the place of my little one, and I 
nourished you at my breast, and when } t ou could speak 
I taught you the rudiments of the tongue. You were 
very dear to me, and believing you entirely bereft, my 
sympathies were powerfully aroused in your behalf. I 
determined that you should inherit all that I possessed, 
and want for no advantages that a fortune could se- 
cure. I even pictured you taking a high position in 
life, and arriving at all the worldly honors I had so 
coveted for the child of my own bosom. For ours had 
been an aspiring family, though remaining unknown to 
fame through all the generations we could trace, but 
like forests that lie germed under the growing trees, 
we only waited the favoring elements to burst into 
vigorous growth. This feeling ran through us all. 

“ I had a sister who showed such fine artistic taste, 
both in music and painting, and became so apt a 
student that, she attracted the attention of all people 
of culture with whom she came in contact, and in our 
delightful circle, she became the queen and admiration 
of all. She went to Italy with old friends of ours, that 
she might perfect herself in the great art centres of the 
world. So accomplished did she become that few knew 


2o6 


Phantom days. 


lier but to be charmed, and there was frequent rivalry 
as to who should gain her attention, or do her honor. 
She married a titled gentleman of France, about the 
beginning of the revolution there, and we never heard 
of her again. The savage wars* that broke out one 
after another, interrupted all communications, and peace 
never restored them between us. That she is dead I 
feel sadly assured, for her heart was warm and true, 
and if it yet beat above ground, I should, have heard 
of her and met her long ago. Her husband disappeared 
in the turbulent bloody seas of the time, and all who 
knew her or of her marriage, fate had snatched away. 

“ I have often pleased myself with the strange fancy 
that you were her child, for though you have not her 
vivacity and changing beauty, yet there seemed many 
points in common ; the dreamy eyes, fair hair, mould 
of the features, apt mind, diversity of taste. And I 
never ceased to feed my heart with the delusion ; not 
sufficiently regarding the fact that the elements of so- 
ciety had been so frequently mingled, and so widely 
distributed through the long ages, that resemblance can 
be found in individuals whose genealogy nowhere ap- 
proaches in a succession of twenty marriages. 

“ But one day a light broke in on me that paralyzed 
my growing affections. Wandering with you on the 
shore, when you were four years of age, saying to my- 
self, 4 It was here I found my little treasure ! ’ I began 
to notice the strange actions of a man who was walk- 
ing to and fro a short distance from us. A certain no- 
bility about him seemed illy disguised by the uncouth 
garb which he wore. He would look out to sea, mut- 
tering to himself, and rubbing his brow as though he 
were trying to recall some memory. As he turned to- 
ward us I received a stunning shock in the conviction 
that this must be the stranger who was dashed ashore 


AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD. 257 

at the very spot, by the stormy billows that eventful 
night. On his part he came' eagerly toward us, lifting 
his hands as if in great excitement, when, uttering a 
curdling cry he fell at my feet. One look had con- 
vinced me that the master mind which should have in- 
formed that soul was changed, or gone, and yielding to 
a superstitious terror I turned and fled. 

“The very next day you were running about the 
lawn, while I watched your gambols from the piazza, 
when suddenly I saw the same figure going by on the 
street, the head stooped sorrowfully on the chest, the 
feet wandering with the body in aimless paths. My 
heart stood still with solitude. It seemed to me, if I 
did not breathe he might pass you unnoticed, — I was 
so jealous, and life without you was so barren. But 
no ! as if your presence made a singing in his blood, he 
stopped, hearkened, and turned, and looked upon you. 
With sickening dread I sa$v him approach you, uncov- 
ering his head, while a gentle illumination, rising from 
far inward, and increasing to eagerness, stole over his 
features, while you, on your part ran to him with 
mellifulous cries and threw yourself into his open arms. 
4 The child knows its father ! ’ I said, beating the con- 
viction in and out my brain, as though it were a bat 
swinging at vespers in a haunted tower. ■ 

44 The man rose with you as if to hasten away. I was 
upon him in an instant. 4 What do you want with my 
child?’ I fairly screamed. He sat you down, with du- 
bious face, while you clung to him, giving one hand to 
me. The stranger bowed profoundly, smiling upon me 
piteously. 4 1 have a long way to go,’ he said, in a mel- 
low, touching tone, ‘may I not take the child now? ’ 

44 4 You shall never take him !’ I cried in desperation. 
4 Who are you? Whence do you come? What have 
you to do with this little one?’ 

17 


258 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


.“‘Madam,’ came the courteous reply, ‘your face is 
not unfamiliar to me, though there is a~cloud before me 
through which all things move dimly, so that, if I have 
offended you, 1 pray you treat me- with leniency!’ 

“And then he looked upon you with such a famished 
smile, that I felt great store of pity, and invited him 
into the house. He did leave it again for many a long 
day, showing such attachment to you that his tender- 
ness was like a woman’s, and could not help but win 
you from me. Little by little you deferred to him in 
all the kindly* offices which go to the nurture and 
breeding of a child, and bitterly I relinquished my hold 
upon you. Sometimes when you had thrown your arms 
about me, or had climbed upon my knees, as was your 
wont in his absence, the act would make turbulent my 
heart, and dash my eyes with tears. Children are awed 
in the presence of grief, and weeping unseals a fountain 
that troubles them, even wakens resentment, for they 
feel the exclusion there is in sorrow, much more keenly 
than their elders do. And so it came that, when my 
love could not bind you, my unhappiness thrust you 
further away. 

“My husband had agreed' with me that this courte- 
ous, strange man, was in some way deeply related to 
you, and did not at first demur at his presence but in- 
stigated finally, by his brother-in-law, he began to fret 
at the sight of him, and importuned that he should be 
sent away. But I delayed, and by my delays wore out 
his importunity. For the look of horror in the counte- 
nance of the stranger when the captain of the lost 
clipper drew nigh him on the night of the wreck, as if 
he had reason to associate him with the calamity and 
and the disappearance of his child, had always haunted 
me darkly, and made me fear for you whenever a cer- - 
tain Godless one came nigh. In the cruel anxiety of 


AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD. 259 

my heart, I fancied Jesser Schanck never looked at you 
but that he was searching through flesh and blood to 
divine whether you were my child, or something 
adopted out of night and mystery. I was curious to 
observe the meeting between him and the stranger, and 
seeing him draw near, one morning, as I sat at your 
window, 1 gazed furtively down on him, for, as was 
often the way of your father after a night of vigils, 
when he walked incessantly, murmuring to himself, 
he would throw himself down in odd places for a brief 
slumber, and at that moment he slept in a rustic chair 
beneath a clump of lilacs. Mr. Schanck came suddenly 
on him, and I never saw such a look of terror on any 
man’s face as suddenly spread over his, with a grisly, 
greenish hue. He caught at one of the pillars of the 
porch, while he reeled and his intolerable eyes turned 
inward. When he looked again he must have thought 
it a wraith indeed, for the sleeper had awakened and 
disappeared. Your own memory will recall the wierd 
passages between them when you had grown old enough 
to observe, if not to understand. 

“ Jesse. Schanck, no doubt, had his own theory and 
i'f he was watched closely, he also returned the inspec- 
tion in kind, and many a diabolical leer would cross the 
banker’s countenance at the other’s sadness and wan- 
dering. He delighted in seeing him do any menial 
service, as if the comparison with something remem- 
bered, evoked a peculiar relish. For some such reason 
he barkecl at him, through his high, shrill laughter, the 
name ‘ Tom Crispin,’ which stuck to him for want of 
the knowledge of his real one. It seemed he could not 
recall his name, though it was kindly asked of him 
more than once. It finally came to be one of the pas- 
sions of Jesse Schanck to visit us frequently for the 
purpose of watching and gloating oyer Tom, but I had 


260 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


reason to believe the fascination bordered on terror, and 
slowly worked a darker evil in his mind. For when he 
first came back from foreign parts, at the time of his 
shipwreck, he was bold and proud, and impressed all 
who were thrown with him, as being a man of unusual 
sagacity, and capable of daring and original ideas, his 
canal and mining schemes, and commercial relations, 
took upon them the significance of political events, and 
though men feared him, he became more and more a 
power they could not escape, and he might have foisted 
himself upon either party and. claimed the highest office 
in the gift of the state, but something that he felt to 
be cruel to his ambitions delayed him and finally pre- 
vented him altogether. He began to lose his grip on 
public affairs, to contract his way of living, to increase 
his exactions, to hoard instead of investing ; and he 
who had been blasphemous became. morose and super- 
stitious, took to prowling the streets. at night, muttering 
as he passed, and casting fearful glances. 

“ He was especially concerned at the frequent 
absences of Tom, and would haunt about the premises 
at night that he might detect him going or coming, 
and urged with ever increasing demand, that we should 
forbid the poor man’s presence. When I withstood 
him, he addressed himself to the ruin Qf my husband, 
fostering his inadequate schemes of finance, loaning 
him money, and getting him hopelessly in his power. 
Before I was well aware he had committed him to grave 
excesses, which made it necessary for me to part with 
valuable lands in settlement of his claims, .By a sort 
of chicanery he exacted from my unfortunate husband 
the secret of Tom’s devotion to you, and then con- 
ceived a hatred for you, which he extended to all who 
showed you favor. Especially 1 think he hated Mr. 
Granville, because he suspected him of ambition, and 


AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD. 


261 


felt be might rise in those very enterprises which he 
had been obliged to abandon. Besides he believed 
him in some inexplicable way, to be concerned with 
Tom, and therefore inimical to himself. I have not 
admired Mr. Granville further than for his classical 
knowledge and general accomplishment, which with 
inimitable faculty he has imparted to you, but I be- 
lieved his presence and the ban under which he rested, 
was your greatest safe guard. 

“ My husband, shamed at his indiscretion in betray- 
ing- your relationship, lost confidence in himself and 
was not easy in your presence or mine, though I never 
reproached him, and he laid his misfortunes at the door 
of your father. He began to have schemes, which he 
kept secret from me, but which were connived at and 
fostered by his brother-in-law,' to use both you and 
your relative for some selfish gain. But the disappear- 
ance of Tom checked them for a time ; and afterward 
the superstition of Jesse Schanck, who believed Tom 
haunted both him and you, prevented any designs that 
he entertained on you alone. 

“ Thus, as you may see, I became more and more a 
prey to- melancholy and forbodings. And you, sur- 
rounded as you were by all these dark and depressing 
influences, and feeling the mystery, gradually changed 
from a gay and sunny nature, to one of brooding, be- 
coming full of morbid fancies, and unhappy.” 

“ Oh, my mother ! ” I cried, “ what evil blast was it 
thai thus drove sorrow to the shelter of your breast ! 
How often did I feel the stirrings of reproach, that I 
should be kept aloof from your hidden, inner being, 
and thought you cold and listless when my own heart 
was warm and craving for your love. 

“But I could not understand that you were thus over- 
clouded by the fate I brought you, and that for me you 


262 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


were being borne under the voiceless stream. You are 
to me all that other mother, whom I shall not see, could 
have been. I cannot give you up! or, if I must, 
would that it might be as the child of the sister you so 
much loved, that I might claim consanguinity, and 
solace my heart with that.” 

“ Alas, my son, my poor Jude !” she returned, clasp- 
ing me close to her, “ what I have divulged to you 
seems to cast you once more, ship-wrecked, on foreign 
strand. But you are now abler to battle for yourself, 
and must manfully turn' aside from dreams and fore- 
bodings, and purify yourself from mysteries, which 
have entered into us all, like poisons subtly dis- 
tilled. I, who have made such a poor conflict against 
the forces that besieged my affections, am no safe 
counselor ; and after all, the reliant soul is its best 
adviser. 

“Study to be strong, and yield not to the little 
wounds, for there is medicine enough in every mind to 
bear us safely through them. In the first moments 
of every grief there come voices of consolation and 
hope ; if we repel them as I did, they come no more ; 
but if we listen to them they will lead us higher and 
above the assault. You would forget your own grief 
to offer me comfort, but I feel that soon to me all will 
be as a tale that is told. You must think of yourself now, 
and though we shall be unhappy in the separation, you 
could relieve my consuming anxiety and show your 
solicitude, if you would go away for a short time out of 
the reach of Jesse Schanck, for I feel assured he means 
to do you an evil deed.”- 

I assured her I must abandon the proposed travel 
upon the continent with Professor Synta, to which she 
consented, but it was finally arranged that I should 
leave Worcester for an indefinite tour through the 


AS A TALE THAT IS TOLD. 


263 


states, and my feelings were so poignant that I could 
not await the morrow, and began to make my arrange- 
ments at once. With painful embraces, my mother 
holding me to her heart and weeping softly, we parted 
at length, and the last vision I had of her was, as she 
leaned upon the balustrade all forlorn, the big tears 
brimming in her eyes. 

When I passed through the hall I noticed a strange 
man bearing away Mr. Granville’s trunk and boxes. 

The old servants were lingering at the end of the 
hall, with no certain knowledge, but with that pre- 
science of evil that runs before it, and when they saw 
me equipped for a journey, bearing a large bag in my 
hand, they set up a dismal cry and clung to me, utter- 
ing speeches of great affection. 

It was as if with new eyes I beheld David Ruland 
waiting for me outside. He looked smaller than usual, 
his face shrunken like old parchment, and full of fine 
wrinkles, his eyes parched, restless, and woebegone, 
and his hair thin and gray. The flame within him, 
preying upon his scanty elements wavered fitfully in all 
his restless actions. Without looking at me, but as if 
he*felt me near him in some deep twilight, he presented 
me with a paper, huskily explaining that, 1 would find 
that the estimates he had made of the expenditures he 
had been put to, on my account, were rather under- 
stated than otherwise, and that while he regretted to 
see that I felt it necessary to go away, he thought it 
might propitiate Jesse, and he hoped I would not put 
aside any offer that might come to me to rise in the 
world, and just as soon as I was in a position to think 
of his necessities, he trusted I would remember the ac- 
count he had given me. 

And this was all ! I would have embraced him for 
the sake of the old days, but I felt that, to him they 


264 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


had never been sacred, so promising him to keep the 
paper in mind, I offered him my hand, which he took 
passively and dropped without emotion. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE HUNCH-BACK SAILOR — THE BUINED MERCHANT. 

When I had passed out of the long avenue and gone 
into the street, all the past seemed stripped from me 
as a garment, leaving me naked and desolate in the 
world. My first inclination was to go to the sea-shore, 
and brood upon all that I had heard. To seek some 
spot near the scene of the long past wreck, and recall 
to my spirit any wandering phantom of the past, that 
might well be supposed to haunt that place. But. I 
resisted the desire, feeling a. confirmed disposition to 
take my fortune as I now found it and make the best 
of it. To complain of the bitterness of the dregs is 
not well done by him who must quaff whether he will 
or no. 

There is sound virtue in a bitter draught taken in 
manly spirit. 

Following the leading thought in this extremity, I 
walked rapidly toward the counting-house of Mr. 
Creep. As I went along, without any effort of deep 
thinking, the mists began to clear, and I felt a posi- 
tive cheerfulness" that the worst had come. Though I 
might even lose Marie, T could not win her under 
false pretension ; and if my father should prove to be 
kind old Tom, with never an illustrious past or hope- 
ful future, I would cherish him, unmindful of the il- 
lusions which had painted the morrow so temptingly. 
I began to feel a longing for that simple, noble soul, 


265 


THE HUNCH-BACK SAILOR. 

recalling at a glimpse of memory all his love, and 
confidence in me, but the perplexing thought came* 
with it that never for himself, but for another, had he 
seemed, to feel pride in my advancement. It was in 
vain that I tried to reconcile this with the relationship 
my foster mother had given him. But not now to 
yield to harrassing thoughts I put the matter -aside. 

I was now in the lower part of the town, on the street 
facing the bay, and passing a coffee-house, I was re- 
minded that I had not dined, so leaving my bag at the 
bar, 1 took a seat at one of the small tables, and was 
quietly discussing my modest meal, when I w r as at- 
tracted by the wild countenance of a squat swarthy old 
sailor who was eating in a corner of the room. As he 
ate he would mutter to himself, and once I heard the 
name of Jesse Schanck start out in his uneasy mono- 
logue. This barbarous old usurer, 1 thought, has sown 
flints into all men’s minds. At this moment the sailor 
turned his face toward me, and I perceived he was the 
same whom Granville feared. Ordinarily I should have 
shunned such a distorted creature, but now, having re- 
solved within the silence of my soul, and through no 
process of thought, to avail myself of every clue to 
unravel the character of my arch enemy, and to find 
Tom, I carelessly arose and paid my score, and then 
sauntering past the sailor, I pretended to recognize 
him, and familiarly seated myself opposite to him at 
the table. 

“ I wish you would tell me who you are,” I kaid, “ for 
I feel that we may have met before.” 

The sailor, looking at me with a dogged expression, 
lowering his shaggy brows, and twisting his mouth as 
if he shifted the cud of reflection, answered with a 
growl : 


266 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


“You might call me. Paul Pry, if it answered your 
• purpose.” 

“ But it won’t ! ” I laughed back. 

“Well, it’ll have to. And I don’t see as it makes 
any difference. People come first, and names were 
fitted onto ’em. If you don’t like mine, give me a bet- 
ter one. I’ve known fellows as had more aliases than 
they had coats, and they changed a little with each one 
they put on. I calculate there’s something goes with a 
name that a man can’t escape.” 

“Jesse Schanck’s, for instance,” assented I, “if he 
had been named Peter Jones, wouldn’t he have been 
sour, and caustic, and grasping and revengeful?” 

And here I looked closely at the man, who pretended 
to eat on, without interest, though I saw his veins swell 
and a fierceness gather in his eyes. He looked up at 
me with a sullen, guarded expression, as if he ques- 
tioned my motive in forcing the conversation on him, and 
then calling aloud to the keeper of the coffee-house, he 
asked : 

“ How long have you been in business here ? ” 

The man, an oldish, fat, and stupid individual, to 
whom every ' trifle seemed to hold an important rela- 
tionship, answered : 

“ Thirty years, may be. What do you want to know 
that for ? ” , 

“ I was thinking you’d been a long time learning how 
to make bad coffee ; I’ve drunk some a little worse. 
Did you ever see me before ? ” 

The host waddled slowly up to the table, and gave 
a long stare, under which the other did not abate one 
jot of his ugliness, though it seemed to me he slyly hid 
behind himself and looked out secure. 

“No,” came the reply, delivered with great gravity, 
as if settling an important affair, “No, I never did.” 


THE hunch-bAck sailor. 267 

“And yet you feed most every sailor that comes to 
port, and have a tough memory for faces?” 

“ Yes.” 

“Well that’s all. This landsman thought I might 
know one Jesse Schanck.” 

The publican feeling himself ill-treated, rolled back 
to his desk, and regarded us with perplexed but steady 
gaze. On my part, I concluded it was better not to push 
my inquiries, arguing .that the sailor’s Reserve was only 
a jealous guard, on some private. wrong, and which, to 
know, could not help me ; while, if he really could be 
of assistance to me, it would be better to let occasion 
ripen. I bade him, “ Good day,” pleasantly, and left 
the room. I could not help but think, however, if Mr. 
Granville had been in my place, he would have got be- 
hind the man’s rough mask before he left him, and 
would have gained at least some clue to his value, 
and have arranged to find him when needed. Some- 
what chagrined at the thought, f walked hurriedly on, 
as if to prevent myself from returning to meet another 
defeat. 

When I met Mr. Creep and told him my story, he 
looked disturbed, and in the light of what had passed 
between us, I felt like a guest who has mistaken the 
day, and comes unexpected to a formal and barren re- 
ception. 

“Jesse Schanck is undoubtedly no relative of yours,” 
he said, as if expostulating, “ but if he was, it might 
be the means of bringing you a great fortune. But if 
Tom is your father — ” and here he fell to such abject 
musing, gazing at a cobweb in the corner of his counting- 
room that, in the silence, for the first time in my life, 1 
felt how weighty the moments were, and how little I 
had heretofore gathered from that constant crumbling 
of eternity. 


268 PHANTOM DAYS. 

Having waited a decent time without further com- 
ment on the part of the old merchant, T quieted my nat- 
ural indignation, and asked him to explain his present 
position, as compared with his earnest confidences on a 
former occasion. Mr. Creep got up out of his chair, 
and paced softly about the dingy room, occasionally 
rubbing his little bald head, or chafing the withered 
roses of his cheeks. 

“ I have been- trying to recall my authority for the 
statements then made you,” lie began, at last, with some 
uneasiness, “ but be} 7 ond the fact that they reached me 
from the irresponsible talk of some mariners,, whose 
names have escaped me, and from the floating gossip 
of the town, I have no definite knowledge. Jesse 
Schanck would be a particularly ugly customer to deal 
with — but why not go to Judge Brief, or, rather, since 
your mother, that is, Mrs..Ruland, has advised you to 
go away for awhile, I would sincerely echo her request. 
Women- have intuitions — Lord bless us! here comes 
Mr. Schanck now. Please, go into the back office, and 
turn the key after you.” 

My first impulse was to stand my ground, but the re- 
flection that I had nothing to gain by the open quarrel 
which must ensue, and that probably Mr. Creep had 
business with him, which I should hinder, led me to do 
as he had urged. 

I heard the feet of the old miser come jarring into 
the adjoining room, and heard the glass-door clash be- 
hind him. Then ensued a colloquy between an abrupt 
voice, and a low, 1 wheedling, even whining and unhappy 
one. Surprised, I could but ejaculate: “And you, are 
in. the toils, too ! ” and could but admire the issue that 
had brought me to know the cause of the lukewarmness 
of Mr. Creep, without subjecting him to the mortifica- 
tion of a personal explanation. Moving as far away 


THE HUNCH-BACK SAILOR. 


269 


from the doo4 % as I could, so that I might not hear the 
conference, I saw the silhouette of Miss Jude in a deep 
mahogany frame, hung, as it were surreptitiously, in a 
dark corner, and beneath it the woof of the carpet was 
quite worn away, so frequently, during many years, had 
the sentimental old merchant paused before it to con- 
jure his fancies. 

Just then I heard the savage snarl of Jesse Schanck, 
thinning to an edge, that cut the silence to my very 
ear. 

“ That is no condonement of your mistake. You 
never should have trusted the illusory schemes of such 
an irresponsible wretch, as this Granville ! this ghoul ! 
this — ” and here his voice blared into an indistinguish- 
able tone. Presently, “ Your promises are all heavy 
with delays, as if you meant to pay me with lead in- 
stead of gold. You are so slow that, I should think 
you yet had yesterday ajar, and could reach the very 
money I put in your hands. When old men borrow, 
ill-fortune takes alms. And yet you’ve always been a 
prudent man — you never married ! ” There came a 
low whining, followed by a gruff laugh, and a forcible, 
long drawn growl, as if of command, a shuffling of feet, 
and Jesse Schanck was gone. After a minute or two I 
unlocked the door, and found Mr. Creep in a very ab- 
ject condition indeed, his face propped by his hands, 
and his watery eyes shot blank against the wall. He 
did not look toward me, but opening his desk, took out 
a purse he would have put into my hands, and when I. 
steadily thanked him but refused, he made a gesture 
that condensed more misery than an orator could 
amplify. Respecting his grief, which I pretended not 
too deeply to notice, I kindly took my leave. 

As I passed through the store 1 observed disorder 
everywhere prevailing. The burly porter-like clerks 


270 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


were chaffing each other roughly, as they lounged about, 
neglecting to serve the two or three customers in pea- 
jackets who were aimlessly handling sea-stores, and the 
book-keeper was remonstrating in an undertone with 
two ill-favored men, while a drayman was uneasily 
thumping a tattoo on the desk, with his heavy fingers, 
while he waited to be paid his humble bill For the 
susprise that started in my face, I received an impudent 
stare from the employees, and heard suppressed, sneer- 
ing laughter as I went out the door. 

But whither should I turn? Surely in this bustling 
little city, nor anywhere in the world, as to that, wan- 
dered anyone so lonely as I, at this hour of the declin- 
ing day! Many might have more corroding care, many 
more poignant grief, the set evil face of remembered 
crime might stare many a false one in the eyes, but 
lonelier than I they could not be. Without purpose, 
but beating my brain for a purpose, like a hound cours- 
ing field and forest, I walked slowly along. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

- THE OLD GRAVEYARD. 

That night I took passage on a small packet for 
New York. For a time I hid myself in obscure lodg- 
ings, and gave myself up to a kind of despair. But 
after awhile I busied myself with an almost feverish 
zest, in seeking for information from prominent French 
residents, from the consul, and from others, but could 
obtain no clue, which would lead to my own identifica- 
tion. I sought for old files of the newspapers which 
gave accounts of the wreck of the clipper “ ALERT,” 
on March 21st, 18 — , but the references were meagre and 


THE OLD GRAVE-YARD. 


271 


unsatisfactory. I went again to the French Consul and 
asked for information in regard to Lorraine, and of any 
wandering nobleman whose affairs had been left in 
confusion there. He told me that he had never been 
in Lorraine and knew nothing of that province, further 
than that the German types and manners prevailed, 
but as to the main points of my queries he had nothing 
to relate. He was, himself, from Lyons, quite at the 
other encl of the kingdom. But he politely suggested 
that I should refer the matter to the French Minister 
at Washington, and push my inquiries through the 
State department, unless they were too personal to 
be communicated, and in that event why not go to 
Lorraine ? 

While I was debating in my mind the wisdom of 
consulting a leading lawyer, or placing a detective on 
the track of Jesse Schanck, or of carrying my inquiries 
across the sea, it suddenly came to me like a flash from 
the skies, that probably Marie liad not gone away after • 
all, her uncle had shown so much vascillation, and 
while I felt in honor bound to absent myself from her 
until better days, yet it was possible for Dr. Murray to 
ascertain for me much that I desired. For might 
it not be that her uncle himself was one of those ill- 
starred folk who were wrecked off Worcester that black 
night? The thought acted as a tremendous stimulus 
to my energies. 

I hurried down to Greenwich street and rapidly 
pushed my inquiries from pier to pier, but found there 
was no packet to sail for Worcester until next day, so 
I crossed the river at nightfall, and took the first stage- 
coach for Rondaine, where I must exchange for my 
destination. The lumbering roll of the wheels, and 
clatter of the horses’ feet on the long pike through the 
seemingly endless marshes, on which the yellow light 


272 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


of the lanterns fell, and the small talk of the passengers 
droning in my ears, soothed me to an unquiet slumber, 
from which I was awakened by the bustle and clatter, 
and bugle-notes of the incoming drivers of coaches, 
deep in the night, as we drove up in the ample yard of 
the old hostelry in Rondaine. 

I got out yawning, and was conducted by a noisy 
boy to the big yellow stage bound for Worcester. The 
horses were prancing with mock impatience to*be gone, 
and the driver, grizzled now, but the same I had once 
known, whip in hand, with bluster and oaths, strutted 
a short patrol, heartily welcoming his passengers, and 
ostentatiously consulting his huge watch to the conster- 
nation of laggards, while he superintended the strap- 
ping of the luggage, and urged the porters to their 
duty. A low moon was skirting the house-tops, and 
as I leaned upon the. window of the coach, as in 
a dream came back to me the night long ago, 
when I had stolen out of the city through just 
such a scene, with kindly, faithful Tom. Tears 
gathered in my eyes, and I sank back in my seht not 
to be seen of the curious, and again slumbered, and 
in visions renewed the past and brightened the days to 
be. 

When I again awoke, the faintest surmise of the 
dawn was in the darksome cool of the morning, hurry- 
ing the stars into the haunts of night. It was a 
thing for wonder that so thin a ray, which a March 
wind might have puffed out like a candle, feeling its 
way aslant the forests, could dissolve the gross darkness 
and touch the world to life again. All my fellow trav- 
elers were asleep, mimicing their final slumbers ; the 
horses in a drowsy mechanism of toil were crawling 
slowly up a hill. I looked out. There was the forest 
skirting the road — I seemed to feel the familiar arms 


THE OLD GRAVE-YARD. 


273 


about me, lifting me for that remembered leap. Yield- 
ing to the desire, I softly opened the door, and swung 
myself into the woods. The horses suddenly sprang 
forward, the door clicked to, the drivel’ with a smoth- 
ered oath started from his nap and seized the reins. I 
was alone. 

The yellow leaves, heavy with the dripping mist 
were falling with an audible patter on all sides of me, 
waking a melancholy feeling in my breast. I came 
out, at length, upon the wide, slow river, and saw the 
sun rise, not as before in gorgeous panoply of state, 
but, meseemed, like an old king climbing in serious 
mood about a battle-field of his youth. A great flight 
of swallows filled the air, curveting in parabola, and 
rolling in spirals toward the south. I stood to ob- 
serve them, and it seemed to me so actual that another 
stood with me that, I turned, almost expecting to see 
Tom. And after that, for a long, long time, that feel- 
ing possessed me and kept alive the hope I had of find- 
ing him some day. I stooped to cast a pebble, and as 
it ricochetted over the burnished wavelets, I felt that 
Tom was admiring my skill as of old, and that I was a 
little boy, wandering by his side. 

When I had come far out on the point of land which 
extended by the river side into the sea, I observed the 
same low fisherman’s hut, and I drew near to it, hungry 
and expectant. The upper half of the door was swung 
open and I smelled the appetizing odor of frying fish, 
and heard the crackling sound of the fire. I knocked, 
and the same fish-wife, with the bold, 'handsome eyes 
undimmed, but \vith threads of silver in her coarse 
black hair, welcomed me heartily after the manner 
of simple folk and invited me in. 

“ Can you give us breakfast, good woman,” I said, 
“and afterward row us across the river? ” 

18 


274 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


She looked fixedly at me for a moment, and then at 
the open door, toward which she walked, and gazed 
up and down the beach. 

“Who is there, beside yourself?” she queried, “I 
see no other.” 

“ There is an old man with me,” I answered myste- 
riously, “ he has a large, serious head, eyes that are 
looking far away ; he speaks slowly as if his thoughts 
were a long way off, outside of him, and he pays with 
foreign gold.” 

She regarded me silently, as if not quite sure of my 
sanity, and then said, “ Is he in the room with }'ou, 
now ? ” 

I nodded. Without another word she busied herself 
about the table, and shortly served me a savory meal 
of bass, done to a turn. As I ate, she stepped about 
the room, always regarding me however, I observed. 

“What have become of all the little children ? ” I 
asked, “the cabin was full of mermen once. And the 
husband who hid himself in the garret, and looked down 
at /us trembling, where is he ? ” 

“Ah ! ” cried she, in a hollow voice, “ I knew that 
day it was not well for you to be wandering with the 
ghostly man. He has breathed on you, and you have 
forsaken home and kindred, and begun wandering too. 
I thank heaven my husband is out on the fishing 
grounds and cannot come under your influence again.” 

“ Why ; did we affect him with fantastic humors? ” 

“ Not you, perhaps, but the wild gentleman with 
you. When he knocked at this door that spring morn- 
ing, my man looked out first, and shpok like any mast 
in the tempest. 4 You go to the door Madeline ! ’ he 
cried, and darted up the ladder into the loft. When I 
came back from rowing you over the river, he was 
gone, and I did not see him again till the next morn- 


THE OLD GRAVE-YARD. 


275 


ing, when he comes walking up to the house, in the 
early dawn, with a spade on his shoulder. He throws 
it down, I watching him, and comes up and knocks at 
the door. 4 Have you been burying anybody ? ’ says I. 

4 No,’ says he, ‘but I’ve been digging open my own 
‘grave.’ ” 

44 Those were strange words; do you know what he 
meant ? v 

“It’s little I question,” she returned; “while he’s 
good to me I sha’n’t probe him to the quick, to make 
him tell where he got his wounds and how. The deceit- 
ful sea tossing and worrying beneath them, and calling 
always with its mysterious voice, at last puts fury in 
sailors’ blood, and lawless whispers go curdling through 
their brains. They’re not to be dealt with like other 
men. I came of the race of sea-toilers and I know I’m 
not like other women. There’s something untamable 
here,” and she clasped about her heart, 44 some desire 
that shall never be fulfilled ! When I have been in 
cities, and have seen fine dames set like pictures 
in their gorgeous windows, or sweeping along in 
shining silks, I’ve felt no envy, but shook my head, and 
longed for my black cabin and rugged mate and naked 
children. And when I came back to this little cape, 
and saw the waves wallowing and shaking their grey 
manes, and calling hoarsely on the breeze, I’ve thrown 
myself among them with a great sob, and hugged my 
breast against the fiercest with a savage pain. 

44 And I love my man all the more because he hoards 
something in his heart. He seems to me then like the 
sea, unfathomable, and I draw closer to him in the 
night, thinking of the unknown ships-weltering among 
the sea-weed and moving uneasily to and fro to the 
swaying of the tide. I couldn’t love a man to whose 
depths I could penetrate with a glance, or whose soul 


Mantom days. 


276 

I could draw out with a question, like a silly fish on a 
hook.” 

And when she had ended, she stood there lurid, in a 
certain grandeur, reckless of the world’s tenets, and 
turning with her great, black, defiant eyes against the 
fates. She seemed a gypsy of the seas, and I was in a* 
mood to have my fortune at her hands. 

“ Will you not tell me how your husband acted, for 
some time, after his return ?” 

The woman turned upon me slowly, as if collecting 
her thoughts from peeping over dim horizons of the 
watery world. 

“ What did you say ? ” she asked absently. 

“Was your husband moody and strange, for many 
days after we had gone ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; ” she replied, “ the wild gentleman had in- 
fected hiii} too, as he has you. He would wander away 
whole days and never return until the stars were out. 
Once when I heard the keel of his boat grinding on the 
sand, I went out to meet him. He was sitting on the 
bow looking out upon the. night that loves to lay her 
swart cheek on the waters. I sat down by his side, and 
coiled my arm about his neck. 4 What is it, mate ? ’ I 
said. 4 Oh, Madeline ! ’ says he, 4 1 used to think more 
secrets lie hid under the waves-, but there’s ghosts walk 
on the shore, and they can change themselves to other 
men’s shapes. I’ve rowed my boat over sunken rocks 
when the tide was still, and heard the lost souls crying 
and moaning below, and never felt so afeared as I have 
to see a dead man walking, and to see him eat, and see 
him give gold for what he ate, and hear him talking to 
a living child ! ’ * And he said we must not spend the 
gold or it might bring us trouble, but that we must 
keep it and deliver it up some 'day -when it was called 
for.” 


'THE OLD GRAVE-YARD. 


277 


“ Have you the gold now ? I must see it.” 

She went to the grimy chimney and removed a brick, 
and took from it a rusted coin, and put it in my hands. 
It was the same piece Tom had given her so long ago. 
I would have returned it, but she pressed it upon me 
eagerly, and would accept nothing in return. 

When she had rowed me across the river, I offered 
her silver, but she resolutely shook her head, and pull- 
ing out into the stream, nodded to me, and was gone. 
On the. way across I had vainly questioned her in re- 
gard to her husband and herself, but she evaded me, 
and would reply that she had already told me too 
much. Determined to return shortly and find the man, 
I creased to allude to him or the subject, further than to 
ask how she knew me after so many years. 

“I have a singular faculty,” said she, “for distin- 
guishing favor, and I can see old people in children’s 
faces, and pick out their parents, or even their grand- 
parents, if I have ever seen them. There was a child 
in that old cabin of mine, once, that I should like to 
see again. My breast has ached for him many a time. 
He was a rare little elf, though so cold and passionless. 
But there’s many a one I shall not see again till the 
ship comes that shall take me down the long surges 
never to return.” 

My heart began to swell and beat in my throat. 
“ Have you ever seen my father ? ” I whispered huskily. 

She slowly nodded assent, looking through me with 
those bold black eyes, which I thought must have been 
a Kracken’s jewels. 

“ Who was he ? ” 

“ The wild gentleman who took you with him into 
yon forest on that spring day.” 

I went up into the low woods instinctively seeking 
for the spot where Tom and I had lain down, and look- 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


278 

ing into the heavens I had seen the eagle climbing up- 
wards into the sun’s palace. The trees were larger, 
but 1 found the. little glade and throwing myself at full 
length on my back,* I gazed into the profound deep of 
the heavens. Two black vultures were sailing aloft, 
and seemed to eye me askance. To these, as if thrown 
by a Titan in the clou-ds, came a handful of crows, 
scurrying and cawing, and began to peck and fight the 
vultures, until I closed my eyes wearily and shut out 
the scene. I put out my hand and felt in the moss for 
the gentle pressure 1 had known in that precious spot. 
“Ah, Tom!” I whispered, “You are my father. I 
feel the tender assurance, and in my spirit I know you 
are with me, and I shall find you again.” 

I wore out the day in rambles over the same ground, 
and ate my dinner of shell fish, and drank from the 
same little tinkling rivulet. When night had come I 
wandered along the same old path, hearing the low 
waves chiming at my back, and the wind rustling dn 
the faded leaves. The moon which had set shortly 
after midnight the night before, was shining brightly 
and approaching the full. An unseen hand was clasp- 
ing mine and guiding me aright, and as before, I fell 
asleep walking, and yet continued to go onward, until 
I began to stumble as before, and knew in my sleep 
that I was among graves, and at length fell forward 
and awoke. I was lying in the hollow of an old grave, 
with my face up toward the sky. The wierdest dreams 
visited me, but all of them had one burden, that this 
grave had been prepared for me a long time. 

Suddenly an owl began to screech from a blasted 
tree filling the silence till it ached. In a pause of its 
unearthly notes I plainly heard the heavy steps of a 
man approaching, and he cursed the bird, throwing 
missiles at it, until it flew athwart the moon, and light- 


THE OLD GRAVE-YARD. 


279 


ing further off began its doleful shriek. I heard the 
man turn, and directly heard him breaking a dry branch 
and hurling the pieces aloft. I crawled out the grave, 
thoroughly imbued with the witchery of the place and 
hour, for it was about midnight and the moon was low 
down. Trees were casting long shadows. Concealed 
by these, I stepped lightly over the old graves, and at 
last seated myself on a broken tomb under a shrub-oak 
whose great leaves aided in my concealment. The man 
came slowly along, not many yards from me, and often 
stooping seemed to be searching for a particular spot, 
lie bore a spade on his shoulder, and had some object 
in his hand. Directly he stopped and listened for a 
long time, then he lighted a dark lantern with his flint 
and tinder, and turning the opening toward the very 
grave, as I believed, where I had lain, he began to dig. 
As well as I could make out from the uncertain light 
of the moon and the lantern, he was a sea-faring mail, 
and was probably the husband of my morning hostess. 

The yellow light mingling with the level moonbeams 
stared ghastty upon the grave. After he had dug a 
short time, I was amazed to find he was unearthing the 
tombstones, which he bore to a grave hard by, and set 
deeply at the foot and head. Then he filled in tire 
holes he had made in extracting them, with fresh sod, 
and having completed his work was preparing to leave, 
when my excited curiosity make me call out to him, in- 
voluntarily, though I trembled afterward, 

“ Why have you done this deed ? ” 

The sailor uttered a forlorn cr}^, like a hunted beast, 
and dropped his lantern. The dismal light was smoul- 
dering on the ground, and shadows were rising between 
us and the level moon, as though they whirled round 
softly with the uneasy wind. At length, as if he had 
overcome his terror, the man stooped and raised the 


280 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


lantern and turned the bull’s-eye fairly on me. Whether 
I looked ghostly or not, the situation was uncanny, 
and the unearthly scream of the owl came shudder- 
ing down. The sailor dropped upon the ground and 
all was silent. 

One might have fancied the evil genii were abroad, 
for apparently stepping from the gibbous moon, which 
shone among the brambles at his back, came one 
whose well remembered step set the blood coursing 
wildly on my heart. He was evidently- bent upon 
dispatch, and in haste to be gone. He lighted his 
lantern and turning, its eye upon the headstones, as 
in curious search, singled out the very grave on which 
the sailor had set the ones he had removed. The 
moon went down and the wind began to make a 
doleful noise. The man had. set his lantern on an- 
other grave and had begun to dig. He worked hard, for 
what seemed a long time, piling the mould above him 
as he sank deeper in the ground. His spade struck 
dismally on a coffin, and I heard him burst it in with 
brutal blows. Then he reached out for the lantern 
and leaned down with it into the grave, giving a 
fiendish laugh of exultation, crying, “ Not all the dead 
men come to life ! ” I stood up on the old tomb 
where I had been reclining so long, to look. The 
lantern made an eerie glow in the open grave, but 
the man’s face was in the shadow. Not ten feet away, 
it seemed to me, there was another glow, but circum- 
scribed and faint, where the sailor’s lantern had fallen 
face down on the grass. At the minute the man had 
clambered out of the grave, the sailor groaned. 

The other stood quite still, in an attitude of listen- 
ing. There came no other sound, for the wind, as if 
listening too, made a sudden hush, and I heard sliding 
ever so softly on the slant air, the owl house himself in 


THE OLD Gil AV E-YARD. 


281 


the tree overhead, hinted, rather than heard, as twi- 
light snow falling on a lonely roof. I waited almost 
without breathing, but the man did not move ; and 
then, as if the fateful sprite that burned at the wick's 
end, could wait no longer, I saw the round ray from the 
lantern begin to search about the ground, creeping ever 
so stealthily over the mossy graves.- And in no long 
time I saw it pause, and knew the sailor had been 
found. He lay very still, his rugged face fringed with 
a coarse beard. His pick-axe had fallen across his 
head. As if fascinated, the man continued to look, but 
through his chattering teeth came a long drawn cry, all 
the more fearful because it was low and maniacal. Oh, 
Jesse Schanck ! what old crime had } r ou thus unearthed? 
What evil ghost had come to haunt you ? 

When I saw him fleeing away, with long strides, the 
yellow flame boring the darkness behind him, as if pos- 
sessed of an animal terror, as it still glared back upon 
the dead, I gave one loud shriek that menaced his 
ears and I would have bartered a year of my life to 
have followed him as an avenging fiend, and wrested 
his guilty secrets from him. The night was frosty 
now, and shivering to my marrow, I felt in a desperate 
mood to hurry from the scene. I stumbled over the 
low hillocks and dashed into the scanty forest, tangling 
myself in thickets, but ever hurrying on. When the 
morrow was scarce upon his pilgrimage, muffling him- 
self in sodden gray, and treading the dark leaves under 
foot, believing myself many miles off, I suddenly came 
out upon the lonesome graveyard again. I paused on 
the edge of the wood looking out at the dreary scene. 
Night had put no glamour on it that day could undo. 
Old tombs fallen through neglect. The moss, creep- 
ing a live mildew up the stones, had cheapened, like a 
fool’s laughter, the solemn epitaphs. Burdock and 


282 


PHANTOM HAYS. 


thistle, peasants of the field, had entered the enclosure 
unabashed. The gnarled roots of the shrub-oak were 
groping among the bones. I heard the sound of the 
waves, no great way off, jeering and hissing. 

With a feeling that it might be all a dream, I went 
among the ancient graves. The names upon most of 
the tombs were singular to an American ear. Hooked, 
and rubbed my startled eyes, and looked again — these 
were the lonely ripples of earth, under which lay the 
drowned mien and women who had been washed ashore 
near this spot, from that sunken clipper “ A 1 e r t,” so 
long ago ! One of the graves was open, and the fear- 
ful face of a long forgotten man looked out of his 
broken coffin. I took the spade I found yet sticking 
in the upturned mold, and filled the pit to its brim. 
Then I looked at the stained headstone and read, 
“AARON MARVEL.” There was no date, nor any 
other word. I went to the sunken grave where I had 
lain, and from whence the stones had been taken. 
Here I dug a trench and buried the spade, pushing 
the earth over it with my feet. I afterward made 
marks on the trees, and drew a diagram on paper of 
the spot so I might be sure to identify it hereafter. 
Then I went away. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

THE WILL. 

A mariner long tossing amid the breakers of a sav- 
age coast never, hailed with more delight the favoring 
wind that bore him into the warm ruffling highway of 
the seas, than I did the broad beaten road into which 
I was led, by a slender negro boy whom I had found 


THE WILL. 


283 


trapping in the woods. I was startled by his reply 
when I asked him on whose land we were, for he had 
said it was my mother’s.- The spires of the little city 
yearned through the yellowing maples^ and the smoke 
from a thousand red chimneys breathed out on the 
morning, while the tall masts swung in the ba}', and 
the bustle and stir of men, like chemicals bubbling in 
a retort, came momently on my ears. 

I paused before the gate at the end of the avenue, 
which led to the great brick house which had been my 
home so long. It seemed to me the old mansion never 
looked gloomier, the windows were closed, and the 
smoke from, the chimneys, in the dull threatening 
weather, beat down by the wind, was rolling about the 
grounds. I longed to see my dear mother, and I cast 
about in. my mind how best I might explain my return, 
after all her injunctions to remain abroad, and I hesi- 
tated with my hand on the latch, but bethinking me of 
my haggard appearance, and the lethargy that drugged 
my blood, I turned and passed' on, seeking the principal 
inn. Here I inquired for my luggage and found it had 
been delivered the morning before, and having break- 
fasted I went to bed. 

It was late in the afternoon when I awoke, and heard 
a bell tolling and mourning in the air, and the sound 
of many people passing on the street. Going to the 
window, I caught sight of a long procession beneath 
me, the head of which had just passed by. In the 
funeral cortege, as was then the custom, as showing 
more reverence for the dead, all were walking, and the 
long sable plumes of the mourners clung about them. 
So many people, I thought, betokened that one highly 
regarded had passed away, and I languidly wondered 
whom it might be. Looking more curiously, I observed 
the tall figure and sardonic face of Jesse Sehanck. He 


284 


PHANTOM DAYS. 

wore liis customary rusty suit, and over it the long 
greasy cloak I had known when a boy, and wound 
about his napless beaver was a weed of mourning. His 
countenance I thought, jet bore traces of the leaden 
hue of terror, and his eyes were set under film, and he 
did not notice the deference of the loungers, who stood 
uncovered on the street until a good part of the proces- 
sion had passed. By his side walked his prim spouse 
in faded garments, her lips were thinly compressed, and 
about her nose was fixed a sneer, closely as though 
branded. I leaned out the window to see if my mother 
and her husband were also there, and looking up and 
down the densely moving line I thought I did espy 
David Ruland, but was not sure, he was now so far 
away. But I did see Miss Jude and Mr. Creep moving 
side by side, and knew from the willowy genuflexions 
of her head and form, that even here she was rippling 
on the current of a never ending flow of speech. 

I dressed mj^self with careful leisure, and then set 
forth to visit the gentle lady whom my heart still called 
my mother ; right glad indeed to know that I should 
meet her alone. I pictured her sitting in her upper 
room, looking out over the melancholy prospect, for 
every bluster, of the east wind set the leaves whirling 
from the trees, and I could fancy the elms feeling about 
her window, whispering and beckoning, and sighing to 
her of the olden times. I meant to throw aside my own 
care when I came into her presence. I would speak 
hopefully, and show I had an undaunted spirit. I 
would tell her .how much I loved her, and how good 
and generous she had been, and would not leave her 
until a cheerful light came into her eyes. Absorbed 
thus, by my kind intentions, feeling my heart glowing, 
and happy tears creeping upon me, I passed into the 
long avenue, and drew near to the house. My hand 


THE WILL. 


285 


was on the knocker when the door was. silently opened 
by Phoebe, the old servant, who looked at me with a 
lack-lustre eye, out of a wrinkled face of grief, and 
strove to speak, but only made a husky moan. With a 
foreboding heart I followed her into the parlor and 
sank upon a chair. My eyes flashed subtler language 
than the slower tongue can coin ; I would know of my 
mother but could not ask, and Phoebe answered, 

“ She has been dead three days.” 

“ And was that her funeral procession I saw an hour 
ago?” 

Phoebe nodded absently, the big tears coursing pit- 
eously down her cheeks. I made an appealing gesture, 
and was left alone with my misery. 

It seemed no long time before many 'footsteps were 
heard rasping about the doors, and a small company 
of old friends and relatives who had accompanied Da- 
vid Ruland home, came slowly into the room. My 
appearance was a source of surprise, and I felt I was 
not greeted warmly by any of the number, with the 
exception of Judge Brief, Dr. Murray and Miss Jude. 
She became separated from Mr. Creep, and hearing I 
was in the room, dropped her eye-glasses at an un- 
lucky moment and rushing against Jesse Schanck, she 
seized his hand and wrung it spasmodically, glozing 
upon him, and whispering nothings with many a shrug 
and confidential closure of her hand about her mftuth. 
The miser leered upon her sardonically until the fit 
had passed and she had sunk upon the first chair at 
her side. 

During this little by play I had opportunity of ob- 
serving the bereaved husband, for lights had been 
brought in and the heavy shutters were being closed. 
His face was vacant, and his restless movements were 
all reflex in character, as if the presence of so many 


286 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


people irked him into some expression. Only the brain, 
-no longer harboring a thought, was dumbly feeling 
about for sympathy, and I went up to him and took his 
hands in mine, for he had not sought me out. They 
were dry and feverish, and perfectly passive in my own, 
though I saw he was, in a certain way grateful, until 
Jesse Schanck, looking hard at him, coughed, and like 
^stronger chemical affinity, drew him away. As he 
went over 1 to his brother-in-law, I noticed he staggered 
feebly in his gait, holding by the chairs, and was quite 
exhausted. 

At this moment Judge Brief had a brace of candles 
set at his side, which he proceeded to snuff, and adjust- 
ing his spectacles, and drawing a large folded parch- 
ment from his pocket, and looking about him with se- 
vere but mournful dignity, he began, to read my poor 
mother’s last will. I would gladly have withdrawn, 
for I felt myself an alien, and my heart was very sore, 
but I had not comprehended the purpose of the gath- 
ering until it was too late. 

After a number of bequests to her old friends, came 
an article providing for the freedom and maintenance 
of the six old slaves, which Miss Jude murmured 
rapturously, and fell to confidential whispers with her 
neighbor. At last the old lawyer cleared his throat 
with an energetic nod, as if for the supreme effort and 
read* 

“ I give and bequeath, without reserve, after the above 
provisions have been complied with, my homestead, town 
houses, farms, and all other property of which I may die 
possessed, to my beloved foster-son Jude Ruland, enjoining 
upon him that he shall pay to my husband David Ruland, 
out of the yearly revenues, twelve hundred dollars, annually. 
And I beseech my husband that, if any disappointment 
should arise in his mind at this action, he shall bethink him 
of the many thousand I have unmurmuringly sunk in his 


THE WILL. 


287 


disastrous enterprises, and I assure him that it is only be- 
cause I have too strong belief of the cunning art of his 
brother-in-law to absorb whatever might fall into liis hands, 
as he has the amounts before alluded to, that I am prevented 
from dividing my property equally between him and my 
foster-son. 

And further, for the last time, as a solemn voice of warn- 
ing from that long home to which I shall have gone, I im- 
plore him, for the good of his soul, to break off all business 
and intimate connections with his brother-in-law : and this I 
ask in God’s name, and so, Amen.” 

A look of consternation went around the room that, 
even a departed spirit should have thus braved the sav- 
age old usurer, and that any lawyer should have been 
courageous enough to have read the message before 
his very face. But soon there was a gradually increas- 
ing hum of conversation, and Miss Jude dared to rise 
on the arm of Mr. Creep and congratulate me. Jesse 
Schanck, with mock courtesy, swept the parchment out 
of the hands of the lawyer, whose eyes shone with a 
cold wrath, and holding it up to the light read the 
last lines over. He burst into a satirical laugh, shriek- 
ing in a high key, 

“ It is astonishing that any woman could have held 
her tongue so long ! She certainly could not have 
contemplated what little satisfaction there is to blind 
eyes, to shoot a venomed shaft ! ” 

“ Have you not proof,” I exclaimed, regarding him 
fixedly, “that the dead return to torment evil doers?” 

His accursed eyes leered at me like a serpent’s. 

“ Come, David,” he cried, “since the cuckoo’s young 
lias dispossessed you of your nest, you shall not want 
for friends! Come home with me.” 

And in spite of my protests, in which I was joined 
by others, the feeble man dragged himself slowly away 
with his brother-in-law, and shortly after I was left 
alone. 


288 


PHAMOM DAYS. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

jpDGE BRIEF ANALYZES. 

I WAS far from easy in mind at this large gift 
of my poor mother’s, but she had not a near rela- 
tion in all the world, so far as I could ascertain, and 
in all likelihood to have giveu more to her hus- 
band, would have been to have given more to 
Jesse Schanck. So, uneasily revolving the matter, 
I could see no escape from the trust. At one stage 
of my perplexity I spoke to the old lawyer about it. 
He looked at me shrewdly through his gray eyes, 
which twinkled an instant in the tangle of their 
worldly wrinkles, like two meres glancing from out 
the fallen autumn rushes, and said sententiously, 
“ Troubled about what the world may be saying ? ” 

“No,” returned I, “no iron nerve of destiny ever 
twanged sharp through the world’s gossip, to my 
ears.” 

“ Hump ! ” he grcrwled, “ very prettily said : but if 
you are Inclined to abstruse poetry it is well that Mrs. 
Ruland stocked the larder — even Pegasus must have 
his bite of hay, now and then.” 

I went on regardless of the interruption. “ The 

approval of my own conscience ” when he broke 

in again, 

“ Yes, yes, I know what you would say ; but I like 
it served with the peculiar sauce which 1 relish. 
We old lawyers prefer to get at the bone and meat 
of t lie argument, and care so little for contours that, 
it rather irritates us than otherwise, to have our game 


JUDGE BBIEE ANALYZES. 


289 


‘served with the feathers on, or a rose, mayhap,, stuck 
in the roast's mouth. 

“ Now property, I take it, is the lusty sinew that 
stands a man on end, and aids him to command the 
attention and. respect of the world. That you have 
acquired yours without toil, or plot, shows you to have 
have had inherent grace, or power, that charmed or 
commanded it. But to give it away, or to slight the 
favor, is a thing ill done and spiteful to fortune, who 
will surely give you a thrust for every time you sneer 
at her. And if you would, where could you bestow 
this fine old house and ample grounds, the tenements 
you have in the city, and the fertile acres which lie 
outside ? Would you offer them to David Ruland ? 
They would not comfort him as much as the mess of 
pottage, for the devil who stands behind him would 
hold his hands in front, and take it in David’s name. 
Would you scatter it for charity’s sake? Benevo- 
lence is a picturesque virtue, but not a thrifty one. 
What it sows in alms is more likely to rise in vices. 
Atlas is only too willing to shift his burden. That the 
Lord will provide, is a belief that made many a lazy 
Christian. While you help yourself most, you help the 
world most. All wealth, all knowledge, all experience, 
all wisdom, goes at last into the pool from which all 
mankind draws its supplies.” 

u Law,” said I, testily, M has always seemed to me to 
be, the most selfish, worldly and sardonic of all the 
intellectual trades. It has a set sneer on its avaricious’ 
face, as if it despised men for their passions and follies, 
though it thrives on these and could not sit down- to 
meat unless brothers had quarrelled, or corporations 
had the tiger’s grip on each other’s or the public’s 
throat. What are your enormous fees but robberies of 
the helpless ! Your chanceries but the kitchens in' the 
19 


290 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


inns of court where estates are ever stewing in the big" 
cauldrons, the cooks ladling the broth to the gowns- 
men, and the bones finally tossed out doors to the 
ruined litigants ! You keep a finger on every transac- 
tion between men until you get your toll. You ” 

“There!” exclaimed the portly Judge, with a com- 
prehensive gesture that seemed to include the whole 
arraignment, “ You enjoy your slings and arrows as 
though you were outrageous fortune. Law is the 
practical reduced to system. And a course in it Would 
do you more good than all the polemics of the schools. 
You have good stuff in you, but like a raw mechanic 
you do not know how to work it. If you follow 
conscience you would come near your idea of right, 
and mould yourself to honesty after a fashion. But 
conscience when applied to public affairs is not the 
safest counsellor, for what you esteem right your 
neighbor may abhor. Each one has his standard, and 
each church its, and each society a different one, and 
each state a separate policy. A man’s conscience differs 
with his knowledge and experience, and he would view 
the same acts very differently in his ripe age from what 
he did in his youth ; though guided in ehch case by the 
strictest moral sense. 

“ The man who never takes but one view of a sub- 
ject, soon limits his judgement, and fails to be just. 
Worse, he becomes the prey of sharpers, for he will 
find the rogue with a very worldly bow playing his 
one tune too, and tricking him every time. Some fish 
can be caught without a hook, but to catch the fox 
requires the stealthiest art, and aid of hounds and 
horse.” 

What was the old lawyer driving at ? He looked at 
me so cunningly over his toastj for he had helped him- 


JUDGE BRIEF ANALYZES. 


291 


self to a glass of wine, and had nodded as if to my 
better understanding. 

“ You are so full of subtile wisdom,” I murmured, 
“I wonder, not to see you in the highest places. 
When I was a lad I remember to have heard you 
everywhere spoken of as theorising politician, and yet 
you contentedly let the world go by with its swagger 
and bluster, and talk philosophy with me on this tem- 
pestuous night.” 

Without emotion he answered, “ Ah, I was pushed 
to the wall by Jesse Schanck. He would not eat the 
hay himself nor let me eat it. The clock struck, the 
hour passed, and neither of us now could rise to civic 
honor. It were a curious study to conjecture the con- 
dition of affairs, if in the moment when fortune stood 
debating between favorites, the now forgotten rival 
had proved the better man. It is my opinion the des- 
tiny of the world would have been much the same, for 
the tendencies of the race are greater than any in- 
dividual policy,’ and public opinion is always weltering, 
throwing like the sea the hidden to the surface. But 
all the same, defeat is a consuming grief to the van- 
quished.” 

A great flaw of wind mixed with sleet and hail 
drove through the elms and buffeted the house. I 
thought of Tom, and his old dread of storms, and was 
silent, gazing at the blazing logs in the fireplace. The 
judge leaned forward as if looking into the night, and 
began again to speak but in a tone of sadness that 
arrested my attention. 

“Now that the years have gone like a dream,” he 
sighed, “and we sit alone this bitter night, the woman 
of my choice sleeping under her first coverlet of snow, 
I feel mightily impelled to relate to you some portion 
of my story. My life has been made barren and disap- 


292 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


pointing on account of the enmity of one man. Jesse 
Schanck was always my rival, and because he was un- 
scrupulous and insolently daring he mounted over me 
and crushed me at the important crisis of my life. 
When he discovered my love for the charming lady 
who once was mistresS here, and whom I might have 
won, when I had been longer known, he tricked out 
his vapid brother-in-law to outshine in gayety all the 
youth of* the city, and spread false rumors about my 
honor that undermined me for a time, so that in the 
end David Ruland, assisted by his rather captivating 
address, a sort of ephemeral flush of manhood which 
died speedily, won the heart which never ceased to be 
my star, and left me desolate. She understood it all 
afterward, but how she regarded the treachery that 
blasted us both, I had never permitted myself to 
fathom even in dream, for she was a pure woman and 
faithful to the duties that wounded her. I think of her 
death as a sort of beckoning of the spirit to higher 
plains, and 1 would fain follow. Surely a manly soul 
that has kept itself single and true must have a recom- 
pense hereafter ! 

“ When years had passed and I had become favor- 
ably known on the bench, and had held other positions 
of honor and trust, ever extending my influence and 
gaining in esteem, Jesse Schanck remarked my growth 
with malignant envy and thrust himself forward at the 
moment when the one political ambition of my life was 
about to be gratified, and as a consequence I lost the 
seat in the United States Senate, which I coveted. I 
am not naturally revengeful, and probably if I was 
alone concerned I might leave Jesse Schanck unpun- 
ished of his crimes, but in her last hours Mrs. Ruland 
implored me, and for her sake, and because she loved 
you, and because I think you worthy, I have sworn to 

i 


JUDGE BRIEF ANALYZES. 


293 


unearth this mystery and set you right before the 
world.” 

I had- been astonished and impressed by this story of 
the old lawyer, and felt a kindly glow suffuse my heart, 
and would have expressed myself eagerly, but I saw it 
would not be grateful to him ; he had already closed 
the door of the secret chamber, and scarcely permitted 
me to clasp his hand. 

How difficult it is for us to realize that our elders 
have suffered or that their days have known romance, 
or that vivid fancies have deprived their eyes of 
slumber ! So un regardful beat their hearts, we can- 
not believe they have swelled to anguish for unrequited 
love, or languished heavily when ambition’s trumpet 
had died away. 

Whilst we sat silently together at the conclusion of 
his narrative, the blasts from the sea roaring in the 
elms, and the ruddy glow of the walnut logs reflected 
on the walls, I pondered how much of the incidents I 
knew connected with my fierce enemy, might be of use 
in effecting a solution of the mystery surrounding me. 
Instinctively I felt the judge’s practical mind would 
not tolerate anything tinged with the suspicions of 
fancy, and as to any actual clue I possessed, I felt my- 
self powerless to assist in bringing about the desired 
issue. At length 1 told of the interview between Mr. 
Kuland and the banker, in the garden ; of Granville’s 
strange understanding with the former, his desire to 
court the favor of Jesse Schanck, and the latter’s 
hatred which seemed almost born of superstition. Of 
the hints and warnings given me by Mr. Creep. 
Of the vist made with Granville to the usurer, and how 
Granville had inveigled him into drink, and of its mor- 
bid influence, the display of enormous riches ; the all 
night absence of Granville, and the accusation raad§ 


294 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


against him of robbery by the miser. I also detailed 
in part, the incidents of my journey from New York, 
and the night adventure in the old grave-yard. 

At the end of my long recital, the old lawyer sat 
rubbing his great forehead thoughtfully. He took the 
tongs from the fender, and arranged the log, punching 
the brands vigorously, after the manner of old men, 
until they snapped vengefully like dragons and breathed 
forth a volume of sparks. Then he began to question, 
and sift, and finally reserved his decision, as he arose 
and paced along the floor, his shadow following on the 
wall, like the demon that dogs us ever. 

Very quaint did he look, retaining as he did, like 
most of the elderly men I knew, the attire which was 
fashionable in his youth, his iron -gray hair powdered 
and tied in a short queue with a black ribbon, his 
shaven chin resting on his heavy stock ; his fingers rest- 
lessly searching under the flap of one of the pockets in 
his long vest, for his snuff-box, out of the contents of 
which he regailed his lusty nose, spilling the yellow 
powder down his small-clothes, and even to his black 
stockings, but ever careful he whipped it off with his 
bandanna, giving a polishing whisk to his silver shoe- 
buckles. Then with a sonorous blast, he turned and re- 
sumed his chair. 

“ In a commonwealth,” said he, “ the bad men are 
kept in check by the good, while on the other hand the 
latter never succeed in achieving the highest design 
of government because of the delays and hindrances of 
the former. So in an individual like Mr. Granville the 
check and countet-check of various desires, must be 
taken into consideration in forming an estimate of his 
character. He is poor, but he has luxurious tastes ; 
lie is unknown, but lie has towering ambition ; he is a 
lover of art and warms at the sight of beauty, but in 

I 


JUDGE BRIEF ANALYZES. 295 

reality his own spirit is cold and sinister ; he is satiri- 
cal, ready with quips aud flings against all patient 
toilers, but is himself, faithful to the details of duty ; 
he hates, but can repress his passions under extreme 
provocation. Now what can have been his connec- 
tion with David Ruland, and his designs on you ? Had 
David been concerned in any plot to foist you some 
day into the heirdom of another, he could not have 
secured you a tutor more accomplished in the lighter 
graces of fashion and in the deeper love for books than 
Mr. Granville, and he might well have left it to him 
to insinuate those deft hints of future state, which 
would have gradually led up to the full disclosure 
of your greater prospects, and thus have prepared 
you to expect, and even impatiently desire the change. 
But, on the contrary all your uneasiness has arisen 
from the strange relations you found existing in your 
home-life, and all the hints you have received besides, 
have been of a negative character, save the one given 
by your tutor some few months back, when he referred 
to Lorraine, and contrasted fortune there with the 
prospects arising here from an inheritance of Jesse 
Schanck’.s estate. Now it is scarcely creditable that ag 
man of Mr. Granville’s finesse should have begun his 
subtile diplomacies at the last moment, even if the con- 
spirators had been content to await their development 
so many years. Therefore I must assign this episode 
to some other cause, and I find it in the accursed desire 
some men have of playing upon the fancies of another, 
extending them either to absurd or magnificent length, 
and enjoying therefrom an ignoble diversion. Jesse 
Schanck was ever of this humor, a very fiend in 
cajoling and laughing at men’s follies.” 

‘‘But, sir,” I interjected, “Low should he have' 
known of Lorraine, and made his hint to correspond 


296 PHANTOM DAYS. 

with Mr. Creep’s confidential story of the wrecked emi- 
grants ? ” 

“ Probably from Creep himself, for I have found it a 
very rare thing for a man to limit his confidential mes- 
sage to one person, and Creep and Granville have been 
intimate. If not from him, he may have got it from 
some old soldier, if.it is true, or even from the source 
he ascribed it to, and the telling it may have been but 
a coincidence. 

“ But from David Ruland he had no reason to expect 
any gain further than his salary, which was paid by 
your mother through her husband, and because she did 
so, Granville was lucky always to get it when it was 
due. Jesse Schanck was much more likely to receive 
it ; and much of the dumb show of language you de- 
tected must have related to arrears and promises to 
pay, for Granville’s needs wers imperious, and David’s 
thriftless habits proverbial. There could have been no 
sympathy between the two men, no taste in common, 
and no furtherance to be gained of the tutor’s ambition, 
for David knew no art but that of sinking, and was 
without influence. But on the other hand, though it 
would have sunk him with humility, he would have 
bartered a family secret, if hard wrung, if it would ob- 
tain him delay at the hands of a curious creditor. He 
evidently did painfully submit to this extortion, 
through many months imparting what he knew to 
Granville, and what he dared concerning Jesse 
Schanck. 

“Having obtained possession of a secret, he desires 
to know upon what grounds the latter haunts this 
house, keeping a hard grip on Ruland and unceasing 
vigilance on you, and why he had feared Tom. The 
ferocious temper of Schanck prevents all familiarity, 
he must therefore get his knowledge at second hand. I 


JUDGE BRIEF ANALYZES. 


297 


am not an imaginative man, but I can entertain the 
belief that Tom haunted this house the second winter 
of Granville’s residence with you. One night in Janu- 
ary of that winter, I had business with Mrs. Ruland 
and her husband, which detained me until late, and 
while we were still engrossed with it, your tutor began 
playing on a violin or flute, (I am not much acquainted 
with musical instruments,) a most extraordinary air 
which affected Mrs. Ruland very much and made me 
feel strangely. When I took my leave* the air was still 
being played, and being in haste I had gone from this 
very room without waiting to be attended to the door. 
As I went down-stairs, a figure passed me ascending, 
that I could have sworn was Tom Crispin. I turned 
cold to my very marrow, and losing my equilibrium 
was nearly precipitated to the floor beneath. When I 
recovered myself, I looked up and saw nothing and 
heard no sound, even the music had ceased. I tried to 
convince myself that it was you who had passed me, 
and I recalled the fact that your development suggested 
Tom’s figure, but I could not divest myself of the odd 
notion that I had seen a ghost. Out on the lawn I 
passed you under a bright moon returning from a late 
walk, and my mind was greatly harrassed. I thought 
next day I might have had an attack of vertigo, and 
consulted Dr. Murray. He was greath r interested in 
my story, but prescribed for my vertigo. But since 
Mrs. Ruland’s death he has told me that he visited her 
professionally about that time, and found that she had 
carried bed-clothing into a room formerly occupied by 
Tom, and had prepared his bed, and believed he slept 
in it, and she .also took provisions there and found they 
were consumed though she never saw this mysterious 
man. All this she did to prevent his visiting the ser- 
vants’ quarters for food, and with a hope that he would 


298 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


not show himself by day and produce some disastrous 
influence on you. Whether it was from hallucination 
or reality it had a deplorable effect on her nervous sys- 
tem to which she must have succumbed, but for Dr. 
Murray.” 

44 Oh, sir!” I murmured, “You thrust sharp grief 
like a dagger into my heart.” 

“ Why, bless my soul,” he ejaculated, “ I had no 
thought of the effect it would have on you. What I 
meant to illustrate was that, if Tom was there that 
winter, Granville was. subtle enough to profit by it. 
Doubtless had interviews with him and got him to go 
away after he had obtained all information possible from 
him. After this, began his intimacy with Mr. Creep, 
and I happened to know that he pushed his inquiries 
with that individual. He had noticed the bad blood 
between Jesse and Mr. Creep, and to the latter he 
hinted at the dark transactions of the usurer, and 
vaguely intimated that an investigation was on foot, 
and thus obtained enough knowledge to deepen his im- 
pression that Schanck was indeed suspected of crimes, 
and had grown rich on the spoils of robbery. From 
you he learned that you had known no suspicion of 
your origin, and that your belief of the supposed uncle’s 
baseness was only surmised, but } t ou had been in his 
house, and knew the interior and the owner's habits. 
He questions you as to his wealth, its kinds, and dispo- 
sition, and now he determined to visit him and examine 
for himself. 

“ Schanck’s father was naturally a shrewd and capable 
man, but a slave to the bottle, indeed I have teen told 
his grandfather was a drunken sailor who committed a 
murder in his cups. Granville evidently had gathered 
his information and determined upon a practical use of 
it. The proposal to drink was only part of his design 


JUDGE BRIEF ANALYZES. 


299 


to surprise the locked recesses of the usurer’s mind. 
If it had not succeeded, he evidently meant to irritate 
him with badinage and argument, and speculative 
reasons skillfully applied, to make him betray himself, 
if never so little. Once he got the smallest opening 
he would deepen it, and pry and frighten, and compro- 
mise the owner. But he inveigled him into drink, 
possibly drugged him, for he must work quickly, and 
all that could be obtained before you, a conscientious 
witness, would strengthen his hold on the criminal. 
He discovers the spoil of chests and garments, and 
finally the buried treasures. His point for the time is 
gained. The drugged man cannot with his old skill 
conceal the traces of his crime. You are the horrified 
witness. Granville, having gained thus much, is loth 
to depart. The sight of the old foreign parchments 
suggested to him further if not more exalted riches. 
He ’has kept great command over his temper and his 
carnal appetites, for he is luxurious in many ways. 
He is a great connoisseur in old wines, as Mr. Creep 
can tell you, for the latter is choice in his selections, 
and never without a stock of the best in his ware- 
rooms. Over the transactions of Jesse Schanck, he 
and Granville have emptied many a bottle, but 
Creep consumed a very little of it, too fluttering in 
his delight at the compliments his visitor has paid to 
Miss Jude and his long attachment. Latterly he has 
assisted both these worthy people in some disastrous 
speculations, and obliged Creep to seek loans at ruinous 
discounts from his enemy.” 

“And is it true,” I cried, “what I hear that, Mr. 
Creep has made up Miss Jude’s losses out of his own 
impaired fortune, persuading her that the stock sold at 
the purchasing price ? ” 

“I have heard so,” replied the old judge, “but of 


300 PHANTOM DAYS. 

that, only in passing. Let us continue the analysis. 
Now would Mr. Granville have so yielded to his ava- 
rice as to rob Jesse Selmnck of his jewels and bonds? 
Is it not likely. His cold plotting and guarded ad- 
vances,' meant absolute mastery and ruin of his prey, 
or large depletions from time to time. Or else he 
meant to possess himself of Sclianck’s secrets and 
resources, and barter them for prodigious sums to the 
rightful heirs to the ill-gotten gain. He evidently 
thought you the rightful heir, for he has kept a fate- 
ful hold on your affections and imagination, for sev- 
eral years, and did not relax his seeming friendship 
until the exposure made in the wrath of Jesse Schanck, 
set him at sea. He is also beaten down by the suspi- 
cion so untimely cast upon his integrity.” 

“Dear sir,” I murmured, “I am very reluctant to 
receive all the harsh things you believe of Mr. Gran- 
ville. And I wonder what it is within me that holds 
me expectant as you proceed, and will not permit me 
to offer some defense in his behalf.” 

“ Oh, for a small, game he would not have robbed 
the miser,” continued the judge, with imperturable 
dignity. “ It is opposed to all the workings of his in- 
tellect. He delights in his cold brain to outwit 
another. He saps and mines, and his subtle approaches 
are as terrible as a tiger’s when he steals a deeper 
shadow in the cloaks of ambush. But should Jesse 
Schanck be indeed robbed, he dare not appeal ‘to the 
law. He must describe the stolen goods, and show- 
his interiors and the very spot from which the jewels 
and the papers were abstracted. To fasten the guilt 
on Granville he must find the property on him, or 
show such circumstantial evidence as doubt cannot 
gainsay. If he does describe the goods and they are 
found on Granville, or can be traced to or from him, 


JUDGE BBIEE ANALYZES. 


301 


the latter will say they belonged to him, and he can 
as readily account for the ownership through bribed 
witnesses as another. Schanck has never shown these 
riches to any other than you and Granville, and you 
saw no bonds or parchments you could swear to. But 
you, you would be subpoenaed by one or the other of 
these men, and ^our evidence will cut like a two-edged 
sword to the ruin of both. If Schanck shows to the 
minions of the law his cellars swollen with robbery he 
condemns himself. If he has hidden it away your evi- 
dence will still undo him.” 

“But suppose,” I cried, “he declares the jewels and 
the bullion rightfully his own, fairly won, or purchased 
by service during the European wars, or bartered from 
rogues who had been at the sack of cities?” 

“ Could he say the same of the bonds ? ” 

“ Why not.” 

“ Because,” continued the judge, “ he has offered 
these for sale to a family in Lorraine, which has de- 
nounced their holding as a theft, and his agent has 
been arrested.” 

“Were the bonds found on him ?” 

“Not so ; only duplicates. Had they been, Jesse 
Schanck would have been under arrest too, ere this. 
The delay is occasioned by the desire to reach the 
bonds first, for fear of his destroying them on the least 
suspicion of the warrant that awaits him.” 

“Then Granville knew of this, and was acting as a 
detective ? ” 

“ Undoubtedly he knew of it from Mr. Creep, who 
unfortunately gathered the story from some sea-cap- 
tain, and Granville, as I have before said, was investi- 
gating on his own occount, and for speculation with 
you.” 

“ Then Schanck has the bonds, or secreted them, or 


302 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


perhaps destroyed them upon hearing of his agent’s ar- 
rest ? ” 

“ That remains to be ascertained,” the lawyer gravely 
replied. u But it is a fact that he has made no com- 
plaint of robbery beyond what you, and David, and 
Granville heard. If he had I should have learned of it 
at once, for lawyers, like Dyonysius, sit at the auricle of 
the huge ear which bends down over the affairs of men 
and catch the slightest whisperings and stirrings of 
surmise ; but I have heard no such sound until you 
spoke to-night. I argue then that it is untrue, and 
meant to cry “Halt!” to Granville; for Schanck evi- 
dently realized the other’s duplicity, and felt alarmed 
at his audacity. Or, if it is-j true — another than Gran- 
ville is concerned. Some one more secret, subtile and 
baffling than he. And he must believe it true, and is 
horribly perplexed to find the game slipping through 
his fingers, and is seeking clues,* and rearranging his 
mental processes of approach and surprise. The find- 
ing of the diamond in his purse instead of the coin 
that he supposed was there is very curious, and not 
now to be explained. From what he said the coin must 
have been a family piece and probably stamped with 
the effigy of an ancestor, who held from king or em- 
peror the right to lfiint, and in someway connected with 
the ownership of the disputed parchments.” 

“ You mean that if the latter were stolen, the money 
was also taken at the same time, and that the coin 
would be an evidence against the robber, and though 
the bonds were undiscovered it would be the accuser of 
their theft ? ” 

“ Yes. And Granville must feel that the third party 
in this game of hazard is more cunning than he, and 
that is a serious admission to one vain of his wits. For 
my part, I am as much concerned as another at the 


JUDGE BRIEF ANALYZES. 


303 


loss of the deeds and bonds — if they were lost. I 
should like to get my hands on them. But we must 
not pay too much for them. Our best plan is to pit 
Granville and Schanck against each other. Whichever 
wins we must arrange to reap the victory. Granville 
shall do our fighting.” « 

At this Judge Brief arose, a slow, majestic figure, 
and moving the curtains aside looked out upon the 
night. He stood there a long time, and I thought bis 
soul was drawing near under the snow to that heart 
long silent. My own reverted from the intrigue and 
crime that we had discussed and went awajr like a 
ghostly forlorn shade, over the sea, in quest of the one 
I loved so well, and so there was a deep silence in the 
room through which the sound of the dying storm came 
lulling. 

When I again looked up, the old lawyer had turned 
and was observing me compassionately. “• It may seem 
to you,” he said, “that we have nowhere approached 
closely to the solution you desire, but that we have 
some ground to work upon is something, and remem- 
ber, 4 All roads lead to London ! ’ And now, a word in 
your ear. Learn to be wary. Disguise your feelings. 
Dissemble before wicked men. You have so long shown 
undeviating characteristics that these two men know 
how to approach you ; how to draw your mind from 
you; how to make you have certain thoughts. For 
■ this very reason you may draw them if you step behind 
yourself, and are skillful to take advantage of an ad- 
versary.” 

44 I shall try,” I exclaimed, 44 for it is no pleasant 
thing for one to know that his thoughts are indexed on 
his face. But it is very late and you must be tired ; 
let me show you to your room. We shall have game 


304 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


for breakfast, Ponto tells me, and Phoebe, I know, will 
brown it to your taste.” 

“I am lotli to leave you, and this rich bed of mas- 
sive coals, but I must go my way. To-morrow morn- 
ing, I leave on the first stage for New York, where busi- 
ness of importance may detain me several days.”. And 
in spite of my protests and the offer of a bed heated 
with a warming-pan, the old lawyer called for his cloak, 
and scarcely waiting for the cordial which Ponto pre- 
pared him, he strode thoughtfully forth into the 
midnight. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

OF THE GHOST WHICH HAUNTED THE HOUSE. 

The day after my return to Worcester I had gal- 
loped off unattended to the lonety little cemetery un- 
der the forest at the edge of the town, where my 
mother’s newty-made grave was already half hidden by 
the down-dropping leaves of crimson and gold, from 
the primeval trees. I bent above her in a long revelry 
and called sorrowfully to her, and at last kissing my 
hand first to the earth and then into the heavens in 
pious farewell, I tore myself away. 

After that the world broke sullenly and strangely in 
upon me, as it does to one who awakens out of dis- 
turbed sleep and long fantastic dreams. I began the 
conflict anew, but one never advances with the same 
ardor after death has severed a long attachment. At 
the earliest opportunity on that same day I hastened to 
the de Rouville mansion, but found it vacant and de- 
serted as my inner reason all along had told me I 
shbuld, but I had continued to entertain the possibility 


THE GHOST WHICH HAUNTED THE HOUSE. 305 

of the return of the family at any unexpected moment. 
My frequent business communications with the judge, 
and the settlement of my new affairs had occupied my 
time so thoroughly that I had not yet returned the calls 
I had received, so the very next day after our long con- 
ference, I determined to do so. I set forth on foot 
wrapt in a great cloak, for the November gales were 
loud and assailed the blood with numbing touches. As 
I went along, the previous night’s conversation echoed 
in my brain, and so busied me that it was with some- 
thing of a start that I found myself in front of the 
“ Mermaid,” and heard the violent colloquy of the 
landlord with an uneasy but piratical looking sailor, 
who was seeking to conciliate him. Again I had come 
upon the hunch back ! But the inn-keeper only raged 
the more, and threatened to throw one of his lodgers 
into jail, after confiscating his effects, if he did not at 
once liquidate his bill and leave his house. I heard the 
name of Mr. Granville, and rightly conjecturing that 
he was the person in dispute, I took the inn-keeper 
aside and inquired into the matter. 

“ He owes me for three months’ lodging and board,” 
swore that worthy, “and he does nothing but drink 
and play his violin all day, and prowl the streets half 
the night, coming in at all hours and waking the house, 
till I shall stand it no longer.” 

At this, the sailor, who had stepped nearer, took off 
his hat and made an ironical bow. 

“ You can’t deny,” he cried, “but that he threw away 
his money like water while it lasted. If his dollars 
had been flies they couldn’t have got into your bar- 
room any faster. Let him alone for a month, and he’ll 
be rich enough to set all your spigots flowing, as if he 
had tapped the veins of Satan.” 

“ My liquor is as good as them ‘that drinks it ! 

20 


306 


v ' PHANTOM DAYS. 


shouted the irate publican, “ and it tastes better when 
it’s paid for.” 

“ Avast, there ! my hearty ! ” growled in deep bass 
the hunch-back seaman, and he tugged a sharp blade 
half way from its sheath, but forced it back again. 
“I wouldn’t smear you. with tallow,” he muttered as to 
the knife, “when I’ve got men in view.” 

“ It’s no use, Mr. Ruland,” exclaimed the inn-keeper, 
who, having gone still further off, with me, was reply- 
ing to my expostulations, “ even if you paid his debts, 
Jesse Schanck, who owns the house, has got his preju- 
dices, and he has ordered me to turn him out.” 

“Then go, he must, I suppose,” broke in the sailor, 
casting an evil eye, for with provoking familiarity he 
had pressed nearer on hearing my name. And now 
with a ghastly attempt at courtesy, he pulled his fore- 
lock and addressed me with a repulsiye smile. 

“ Your Honor, it is too bad that a scholard and a 
gentleman should be scaled like a fish by this tavern- 
keeper. Couldn’t you advance the ducats and let him 
take his traps, and hide in some old house of yours 
until the ill- winds blow over ? ” 

I mused doubtfully. 

“Come, come,” he urged, “there’s going to be a 
change of fortune for him. Don’t let him go down in 
sight of shore. Redeem his logs, and his hangers, and 
His daubs, and his fiddles, and let me stow them into 
some old hulk of yours, for he, himself, is going away 
with me to search for gold. We have got it staked out 
and the divers engaged. There’s that squatty yellow 
house on Bayard street ! ” 

“I know nothing about it — ” I replied hastily, 
“ but if it is mine, and not engaged, he is welcome to 
it — and as to his debts — ” I. took some gold pieces 
from my purse and dropped them into his huge hand. 


THE GHOST WHICH HAUNTEi) THE HOUSE. 807 

“ You are a happy dog,” he blurted, “ not to know 
you have a house more or less,” and he pulled the inn- 
keeper through the door and began to haggle for 
terms. 

“ Where is Mr. Granville, now ? ” I called. 

“Show you in a minute,” cheerily growled the 
hunch-back, and impudently trolling a stave,' to show 
that he no longer acknowledged my breeding, he rolled 
his huge bulk before me. 

As I went along the wretched floor, T had a sinking 
distrust of the result of my errand, for what power 
on earth could make that unscrupulous intellect stand 
and deliver! But when the sailor, with a surly, 
“Avast there !” threw open the door, getting a sharp 
oath for his pains, I steadily regarded Mr. Granville, 
and found him, to my surprise, wanting in that firm- 
ness of feature which had always been his character- 
istic, 'even when he was indulging in mockery, and with 
the satirical blade of his wit giving fine wounds to his 
opponent’s sense which must smart unmedicined. 
There was something uneasy in his movements, and a 
lurking unrest in his eyes. Whether he had quaffed 
more deeply of some fiery wine than he meant, or 
whether he was yielding to the debasements of cher- 
ished revenge, or other ignoble sentiments, which sapped 
the harsh ambitions of his soul, I could not tell, but 
evidently he was not as of old. He stared at me sul- 
lenly and motioned the sailor to be gone. His room 
was in confusion, his books and pictures piled pelhmell, 
and his musical instruments scattered here and there, 
while maps were* pinned on the walls awry, and bottles 
littered the tables. Two elegant swords lay among some 
broken pipes on the mantel-piece, and a painful air 
of slovenness was everywhere manifested. I drew a 
chair to the- hearth where a hickory fire was blazing, 


308 


Phantom days. 


bat he remained standing, leaning against the high 
mantle-piece, and looking gloomily down upon me. I 
had made up my mind not to resent any speech he 
might make, and I was resolved that I would hold 
my feelings well under control, so that he might gain 
no advantage hinted at by Judge Brief, but his first 
words made the man leap in me. 

“ You are at that time of life,” he began, “ when the 
unmeaning smile of a girl is as love-ripe and wanton to 
your heart as though you were birds mating on Valen- 
tine’s day. Your soul has gone maudlin in an atmos- 
phere of dreams — but as for me — look well at me ! Do 
I seem like a man who would long forego great enter- 
prises ? ” 

As well contained as my spirit is, there are times 
when it breaks beyond control, and I was so well satis- 
fied of the depravity of Mr. Granville that I could not 
endure him towering in his assumption, and his insinu- 
ations were hateful to me. 

“ Your conceit is so boundless that,” I cried, “I do 
not wonder at your self-delusions, but in any great de- 
sign that you will ever accomplish, unless it is to be 
built up with words, I have no faith. You seem to me 
like one of those monstrosities of nature which, begun 
for one thing has been slurred into another, with the 
good gifts of both confounded. You are an eagle with- 
out pinions, always prating of the flight you mean to 
make. You are a man with a sufficiently bold bearing 
to be a soldier, but you creep and wind like a fox. 
When you would build an empire in men’s minds, do 
you begin by sapping and mining ! ” 

“ Insolent boy ! ” he returned, in a menacing voice, 
while his . eyes emitted crafty gleams as they roved 
about the apartment, resting furtively upon the swords 
lying on the mantel-piece. “Insolent boy ! were you 


Me ghost which haunted the house. 809 

but of vigorous mould and apt responsibility, I would 
chastise you for this speech ! ” 

I got up impulsively and seized one of the swords, 
designing the other for his own hand, but recollecting 
the status of my foe I threw it down upon the ground. 
“ You have not always been so scrupulous in your en- 
counters/’ I exclaimed. “Do I not remember your 
fiend’s boast that you meant to overcome one whose 
wits were clouded ! And did you find an equal con- 
test with David Ruland when you unwound the secrets 
of his soul? And when you had a proper antagonist 
in Jesse Sclianck, did you overcome him with wit's ra- 
pier or with wine? There are swords and swords, and 
I care not whether you choose tongue or steel, you have 
secrets of mine and I demand them at your hands — or, 
what consorts better with your avarice, I am willing to 
pay you for them.” 

He drew himself up to his full height, a purple red 
spot glowering in either cheek, while he shot me a 
glance as barbed and cruel as any Jesse Schanck had 
ever feathered for my heart. His lips moved convul- 
sively, but he checked the speech they might utter, and 
with a ferocious sneer he reached down the other 
sword, and made, as if in derision, three or four dex- 
terous passes with it, ending with a furious lunge as 
though he had spitted his enemy through, and returned 
the weapon to the sheath. Still striving to concen- 
trate his wrath, he stalked rigidly across the room, and 
seized a decanter containing a small amount of wine 
which he drained at a draught. Then stepping into 
the old worm eaten hall he called shrilly for the tapster, 
who presently knocked and not without some pointed 
mumbling over the unpaid score, left him a further 
supply of some black looking liquor. Eying the quality 
askant, and concealing his loathing* Granville adressed 


810 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


himself to the bottle, and as if he drew within him one 
of its vagrant genii, he came toward me, slightly reel- 
ing, bearing his violin, which he held with a certain 
inspiration, saying 

“ Through the bars of this gate to fairy land I have 
drawn spirits, and have conversed with demons ! Let 
us hear what they will say ! ” 

And then deftly drawing the bow across the strings 
he gave me the freezing impression that something 
grisly, thinly candied o‘er with melody, had thrust it- 
self out'and was leering at me. The strings yet vibrat- 
ing, he held the violin to his ear as if .to tune himself 
to .their mocking sound, then reaching backward he 
laid the instrument down. 

“You desire to know who you are,” he said, “and 
why I tire of you and wish you gone. I could indeed 
wish your soul was a fish slipping dimly in the slime, 
or under the rocks of a sea so far in the North that 

human eye has never glassed -its desolation, or that you 

, , • 

were — 

“ Oh, cease your vile fantasy ! I wish you were an 
honest, valiant* man — or, since fallen from that high 
estate, that there were in you a little of the leaven 
that should make you whole again.” 

“ Fine airs ! ” he shrilled, helping himself at the de- 
canter anew, “We each of us prate the doctrine 
which holds us best in stead. Heard you ever this?” 
And he again siezed his violin and played that which 
sounded like the melodious anger of a bird or genius, 
and I remembered the sounds I had heard when Marie 
gave herself to my embrace the night we parted. He 
looked fixedly at me, detecting my startled expression, 
and then began a strain very cunning and sweet, and 
growing every instant more thin and ravishing. Surely 
it was like that which was blown stealthily about the 


i 


THE GHOST WHICH HAUNTED THE HOUSE. 311 

house the night the shadows met in Granville’s room, 
and one came creeping to me as I hid in bed. I rose 
up in my excitement and caught his hand, shooting 
along its arteries the impulse of my heart. As if 
sweeping round and round in his melodious mysteries, 
he looked out upon me sullenly, and tried to wrest 
himself further away, but I continued my grasp, look- 
ing in upon him with all the intensity of my nature, 
when he began to speak as if out of the obscurity of a 
hideous dream, the violin still vibrating audibly. 

“ I used to hear strange sounds about the house 
while I was still droning in the small hours, painting, 
or composing, and I would lean from my doorway 
half an hour at a time, silent myself as a shadow, and 
listen and wonder. Catlike, though heavier, the steps 
would move, coming, receding, dying away. If I came 
near them, creeping myself like silence on the heels of 
dimmest sound, they would always keep equi-distant, 
or become hushed and I would lose my clue. Some- 
times it seemed to me this obscure noise was under the 
house, or over my head, or between the walls, or was 
passing in the air. By daylight I searched the rooms, 
and sounded the floors and panels.. There was one 
apartment that was never entered by any of the family, 
and which was shunned by the servants : its windows 
were darkened, and the furniture was severe and simple, 
a bed ready-made, as for an expected occupant, a chair, 
a table on which stood a candle with flint and steel, the 
wick blackened from some past use, and in a closet 
hung a rusty suit of small clothes, with stockings and 
wrinkled shoes. The coat was meant for a man stout 
of body, and the shoes for one who stooped or sham- 
bled in his gait — the peculiar creases showed that, and 
the hat was for a large head. One day I discovered 
that the bed had been slept on, not in, and the occu- 


312 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


pant had thrown himself hurriedly across it, and 
the pillow had not been used. At another time I was 
convinced, from the character of the dust on the 
clothing, that the floor had been couched on instead of 
the bed. And once I found the remains of a cold 
collation on the table, in one of the dining room 
plates. 

“ I stood a whole hour at the door of that room 
one moonlight winter night, lifting the latch through 
unmeasured time, feeling slight particles of rust grind- 
ing slowly together without grating, and pressing the 
panel inward with an icy hand, moving my feet as if 
down slided through down, though the tendons aclied 
with the unwonted strain, until I stood at last beyond 
the portal and turning m}^ head I saw the outre fig- 
ure of a man lying on the bed, the eyes wide open, 
and the moon shining full upon them with an uncanny 
lustre. But I could detect no movement of the chest, 
nor any sound of breathing. So overwrought I was 
that, turning my faculties within in deep reflection I 
must have passed into a momentary trance of thought, 
and lost my hold upon the outer world, for raising 
my eyes at length, the man was gone. The room was 
emptied of him, and the ghastly white moonshine af- 
fected me like phosphorescence in an empty tomb. 

“ I had entertained the conjecture at one time that 
possibly you were a somnambulist, but I could not de- 
tect you in the act, if you were, though I had more 
than once slipped to you for the purpose, but found you 
slumbering deeply. One night, however, I saw your 
door ajar and creeping to it I beheld a sight that cur- 
dled my blood for an instant. The ghost which haunted 
the house stood over you, holding his burning candle 
aloft, a ghostly candle, which burned icily in the cold 
hollow of the room. His eyes had something piteous 


'-THE GHO§T WHICH HAUHTED THE HOUSE. 813 


in them, even more so than his pathetic, wistful face, 
for you seemed thrust before him a problem not to be 
comprehended. Become a spectre myself, I flitted 
along the wintry hall and up the stairs, and back into 
my room. I drank deeply, and pondered andlulled’my 
senses over the whispering violin, playing full softly, 
though clear as a spirit singing in a bell, when the dim 
sounds under it all, came to me, and nearer and nearer. 
There was a sighing at my door ! 

“Slowly the power came to me and slowly I gathered 
from that unhappy soul its hoarded, unremembered se- 
cret. With this magic violin I was lord of his spirit — 
his tongue like a base warder delivered up the donjon 
to me while the master slept, if I but played right cun- 
ningly. And more, the distracted spirit obeyed me, 
coming and going through the house and following me 
about the city on dark nights, held constant by a thread 
of music, though it chafed and mourned but could not 
tear itself away, It was searching for me the night we 
were in Jesse Schanck’s cellar — it was there some hours 
later — you may have heard the music crooning about 
his walls when you returned from the deRouville man- 
sion. 

“Aye, start and stare at me !” he angrily exclaimed, 
seeking to tear himself away, “ You guess who it was, 
but you do not guess how this same wraith led me under 
de Rouville’s windows in the dead of many a mirk un- 
moving night. And how I found that gentleman was 
also haunted though unlike me he gave up to the uncanny 
power instead of mastering it. It was through this 
agency too, that I discovered that Jesse Schanck held 
concealed under his house the treasure of de Rouville 
— his ancient gold, his bonds and his hereditary patents 
from dead kings. And hence was it that I came to the 
latter with the old coins,' seeking to have the assurance 


314 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


before I sprung my engines on the miser. And here it 
was, comparing the antique gold with its ancient breth- 
ren of the' mint, out of a store of gems and coins, the 
exchange was made, unwittingly, that seemed to accuse 
me of the robbery. And here, hid in the lilac eops,e 
and waiting for my familiar friend, I saw you cozening 
the lady of the house — a gift too rare for your deserv- 
ing!” 

“ Go on, coarse fox ! ” I burst out in my excitement, 
“I "have no argument to hold with you! You cannot 
taint that most excellent star of night. Pause not — 
divulge these damnable mysteries ! ” 

“Out, egotist!” he snarled, glittering coldly into me, 
as he tore his hand away and started back. “You 
think yourself beloved, while she long since has known 
that her heart was only bewildered. I grant you had 
a sort of eloquence that came over her, sweet and 
poisonous, and her soul was cloyed by it and yielded, 
but only in a trance. Had I not been in ambush 
waiting for my farpiliar, who was even then tempting 
de Rouville, I could not have brooked your insolent 
passion, but should have rushed upon you like a flar- 
ing thunderbolt, and have crushed you to the 
ground ! ” 

Steadily regarding him, and as if he had not realized 
his baseness, I calmly returned, 

“ When you once more sought Jesse Schanck’s 
house, assisted as you now were by your helpless victim, 
what did you discover, and what did you take away ? 
If you have the lost papers, they must be valueless to 
you unless you can negotiate them. Why do you hesi- 
tate ? Jesse Schanck came foully by them too, and 
the owner would redeem his stolen goods, with all 
secrecy, if need be.” 

But as water sometimes feeds fire, so my very calm- 


THE GHOST WHICH HAUNTED THE HOUSE., 315 

ness irritated his passion, and he cried out in a harsh 
voice, 

“ And do you consider yourself the owner ? If not, 
why then do you stand there, prating of matters which 
do not concern you? Were they yours, you would 
give ten thousand dollars, maybe, to recover them. — 
And had I them, your ten thousand would not tempt 
me so much as that black rascal does that crouches and 
winks at me through the window of yon decanter ! 
Come to m}^ heart, you villain !” And sans ceremony 
he gulped down the remainder- of the liquor. “ You 
talk of bribing me ! ” he cried, his eyes flashing out a 
sullen heat, “ Why, I will stipulate to make you a 
baron, and tumble a castle on your title, if you will 
give up your vaporing claim to Jady Marie’s hand ! 
What man ! am I not a better lord of the earth than 
you ? One, who, venturing alone, has touched fate in the 
twilight of human affairs and has plucked the golden 
key from her girdle ! Love has come to me late, but 
his chance arrow has roused within me a fierce and 
turbulent spirit that almost thrusts my life aside, and 
will have its way into the world. Can so slight a thing 
as you combat imperious destiny ! ” 

I drew my cloak about me with a disdainful gesture, 
and was leaving the room without a word, for even to 
have forced the confession from him that I most wished, 
would have demeaned me now, when he thrust a 
haggard, miserable face before me, and pleaded in a 
quavering tone, “My own life is going, Jude — I had 
such a vast and brilliant world in my mind, and the 
throne stood vacant into which I might at any time 
climb, but the combination is breaking up, the throne 
alone remaining in the centre of chaos. But one is 
seated thereon whose beauty beckons me, and all the 
* wild storm of dissolving atoms would whirl into shapes 


816 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


of power and grandeur, could I but reach her. Go 
your way, lad ! there are a thousand for you — but 
only one for me in all the march of time !” 

There was a loud trampling of feet at the door, which 
was thrown open with, a bang, and into the fire-lit 
darkness, for night had come on, stumbled the sailor 
and two rude companions, one of them a carter, evi- 
dently, from the whip he carried in his hand, and all of 
them boisterous and under the influence of drink. 
They began to sieze upon the effects of Mr. Granville, 
who looked upon them with a wild alarm, when sud- 
denly by one of those quick revulsions incident to the 
nervous strain of a prolonged debauch, he staggered 
helplessly and would have fallen, had 1 not caught him 
in- my arms. 

He had scarcely sunk back on the couch, where I 
had dragged him, when rousing himself with a vicious 
energy as if he felt obscurely that there were enemies 
to be combated, he half rose and looked darkly around 
him. Through the confusion caused by the trio, who 
were fast stripping the room, he singled me out. 

u Do you want to know who robbed Jesse Schanck?” 
he hissed. 

I drew near him unconsciously, leaning my head and 
straining forward. It seemed to me that he was 
about to divulge something that would become a clue 
to my mystery. How like a malicious demon he met 
my intense gaze, and how like one he answered my 
mute appeal ! 

“ It was your father ! ” 


317 


GARRULOUS AGE. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

GARRULOUS AGE. 

The next day I rode over to the de Rouville mansion 
again, going purposely the sea-way, and riding through 
that old tangled park, so well known to me now. Short, 
bitter blasts were combing the waves like carded wool, 
and the few ships I saw were crowded under all sail 
against the down-dropping roof of a stormy sky. I 
paused on the crest of a little hillock and looked out 
over the waters, wondering at what tumultuous spot the 
fated ship had sunk, or where it was that I had been 
washed ashore. As I turned away, the sand was whirl- 
ing into spectral forms, and sweeping in dervish dances 
down the beach. My horse shrunk at the cold, and 
gladly bounded into the little woods. The stream was 
frozen in the act of falling — that stream, upon whose 
tinkling cataract we were wont to pore, as if it had been 
something oracular and cheering. “ See, Jude,” Marie 
had whispered me one day, “ there is nothing can bind 
this darling water, impelled by the force behind, it 
struggles over every impediment, and leaps, singing 
into the chasm, only to reappear with a joyous murmur 
and speed bravely onward.” But now, fate had chained 
the impetuous wanderer, and as I looked up at the sun 
struggling above the billows of cloud, his wan and 
fronted face did not seem that of a glorious genius has- 
tening to redeem the world. 

I rode once round the deserted mansion, looking 
up at the walls laced green with ivy, which seemed 
to adorn as if in mockery the windows, which like 


818 PHANTOM DAYS. 

sightless eyes were turned against the tempest and 
the unbidden guest. I dismounted at the rear of the 
house where there seemed to be some evidence of 
life, and Jean, now become childish, decrepit and 
half blind, came out of the servant’s door, shading 
his eyes with a tremulous hand, and called out, “ Wel- 
come home, Master ! The travel has done you good. 
You look twenty years younger; though no health 
can wear out the sorrow that was pricked too deep 
about your eyes that awful night. My old wife never 
hearkens to these loud winds but she fancies she hears 
an infant wailing too, and strains forward to grasp it 
from the hissing waves. But where is your retinue ? 
I hope the ladies are well ? ” 

With this he reached me, and through his bleared 
eyes he crawled over and over my face, as if dismayed. 
“ Who are you ? ” he asked, at length, and hardly heard 
my explanations, for curious study of my features, lift- 
ing his hands, shaking his white poll and muttering. A 
vain regret of this creeping age that so benumbs the 
faculties, and gives decay in life, swept shuddering 
through me, as I regarded this ancient retainer of the 
house. I spoke kindly to him reminding him of the 
days when I first knew him, and a smile stole rustily 
through his torpor. I learned from the old man that 
he and his Gretclien, now bed-ridden, had bee,n left to 
take care of the mansion during the absence of the 
family, but his memory had become so defective, that 
he did not know where they had gone, nor when they 
would return. It was the way of the master, he said, 
who travelled a great deal, and who preferred to spend 
the winter abroad. . 

“You must be very lonely, Jean. Do you see no 
one ? Is there nothing I can do for you ? ” 

“ Nothing,” he replied, absently, “ unless you could 


GARRULOUS AGE. S19 

stop the great winds from blowing, and hush the big 
storms in March.” 

44 Do you see no one ? ” 

44 Oh, yes, yes! ” he cried, kindling back to memory 
under some stimulus of excitement ; u yes, a very 
strange man — by day he is young and vigorous, but at 
night he has grown old and grim. In the morning 
he walks once about the grounds, or maybe he only 
passes along the drive way, and looks up at the win- 
dows ; sometimes he calls to me, with sharp, cutting 
pleasantries. 

44 Once he said, 4 You are left behind like a bed of 
old coals in the kitchen fire-place, Jacques ! When the 
family returns they will use you to kindle the logs for 
the breakfast you shall not eat, for in no long time the 
cook will throw you on the ash-heap, and the wind will 
blow you away.’ At another time he says, 4 Old 
Shoe, are you there yet? It is laughable to see you 
shuffle about the grounds when the master’s foot is far 
from you.’ At night he thrusts a hideous lean face at 
the window, and shouts 4 How long do leeches live? ’ 
When I was ministering to my poor old wife, he gives 
us a dreadful start, and I had nearly dropped the 
candle, at his crying out 4 What are you and Palsy 
mumbling about? Nothing pleased Death so well as to 
see diseases get together.' ” 

44 And did he come again ? ” 

44 Ay, did he, in the morning, young and bold enough ! 
Without so much as 4 By your lief!’ he plucks the 
three roses which had bloomed by the south wall, late 
in October. 4 Take these, old man,’ he cries, ‘and let 
them burn incense under the lady Marie’s picture ! ’ 
And when I remonstrated with him, he laughed and 
said 4 1 was no better than a crow, since age had left 


S20 JPHANTOM DAYS. 

me nothing of my former self but appetite and 
clamor.’ ” 

“ What did you do with the roses ? ” I asked, seek- 
ing at the first opportunity to check the garrulous old 
servant. 

“Put them in a vase before the Holy Virgin.” 

I laughed at the good fellow’s simplicity, and slip- 
ping a piece of gold into his hand, I wrote my address 
and gave it to him, charging him to advise me as soon 
as any member of the family returned, which he prom- 
ised to do, but I feared his treacherous memory, as he 
began to call me “ Master,” and invite me in and be- 
seech me to visit, if but for a moment, “ old Gretchen,” 
until at last I mounted my horse and galloped away. 

I was not easy in my mind at these visits of the old 
miser and Mr. Granville, to the grounds, for it was 
evident they were the men he alluded to. And with 
disdain I thought of his admiration of Marie, and how 
he had ruthlessly plucked old Jean’s roses with this 
same lawless sentimentality fretting his cold heart! I 
sickened at the thought, and would have cursed him in 
the act. 

But why should Jesse Schanck be prowling about 
the house like a ghoul, in the dark? I was satisfied 
Jean’ s aversion, so strongly exhibited, would prompt 
him to deny them any admission to the house, but 
nevertheless I determined that one of my trusty serv- 
ants should call on this old couple frequently, and in 
my name afford them such assistance and counsel as 
they migjit need. 


DAVID RULAJND ALARMS THE MISER. 


321 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

DAVID RTTLAND ALARMS THE MISER. 

If it had not been for Judge Brief, I should have 
fretted my heart out during this execrable winter, 
for I could learn nothing of my father, and I knew 
not where to turn for evidence. Marie and her ex- 
cellent uncle had gone away as utterly as if they 
had been only noble dreams, and in my anxiety I 
burned in slow flame, and often rushed out doors to 
meet the cutting gales and bared my head to the icy 
sleet and snow. When I inquired for news of Mr. 
Granville at the “ Mermaid,” late one darksome day, 
determined to make one further trial at fence with 
him, I learned that he had gone from the city, and had 
left word that he would not return until the spring. 

It was possible for all that, I argued, that he had 
shut himself up in the little house on Bayard street, 
and thither I turned my way. I was surprised to find 
this was the small two story structure over which 
leaned that just alighted dragon, the spotted sycamore 
tree, before which Granville and I had paused to re- 
mark, on the day of the explosion in Jesse Schanck’s 
underground laboratory. The shutters were closed at 
all the windows, and the yellow house had a desolate 
and forbidding appearance. The paint was in great 
blisters on the weather beaten door, and the bark was 
hanging in loose strips from the tree, a limb from which 
had been broken off by the wind, and had fallen across 
the stoop. Evidently no one had been in or out of the 
21 


322 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


house for weeks. Mentally taking account of necessary 
repairs, I hurried away. 

Turning the corner of the street I found myself 
nearly in front of Jesse Schanck’s dilapidated house, 
which trembled through all its huge wreck, and bent 
and groaned before the wind. And there was the miser 
himself, leering out from his door with a malicious 
smile as he bade two decayed looking men farewell. 
As they passed me I perceived one of them was Mr. 
Creep. He had a vacant air, and his eyes were cast 
down and had a watery look. I would have spoken, 
but he never regarded me, being preoccupied no doubt, 
with his losses, and the sneers he must have borne. As 
for the usurer, when he saw me, he came out on the 
high steps, and the droop of his malicious smile took an 
upward curve of cordiality that arrested me, in spite of 
the determination I had had of passing him unnoticed. 

“ Why, God bless my soul ! ” he barked in elevated 
key, “is it you, Jude? Don’t let me hear you were 
not meaning to call ! A well grown lad, and of a brave 
appearance ! Your new cloak becomes you like the fig 
leaves did Adam. Ha, ha ! Compliments are not in 
my line. I never could find tropes smart enough for 
my meaning. Your old father — that was ! David 
is pining to see you. The old man is breaking very 
fast.” 

I paused a moment, and then turned toward him, 
mounting the worm-eaten steps. “ That’s right, that’s 
right! ” he grinned, “ Walk right in. I see you don’t 
bear malicte — and why should you? Never close an 
account, say I ! Gad, you give a flourish to the doorway 
as if it were Gabriel’s trump summoning the dead. 
And so you do : old memories revive. The heart that 
was locked under snows begins to thaw and send a 
freshet through my veins. Ha ! Ha ! ” 


DAVID RULAND ALARMS THE MISER. 323 

And so he cackled on. I had entered, and had 
been conducted at once into the dining-room, where 
the winter air lay numb about the grate, in which 
a few feeble coals were dying under some green 
fagots. Mrs. Schanck, turbaned in a hideous sweeping 
cap, was dusting the sinister oriental carvings, on the 
tall mantel-piece, and showed me no further recognition 
than a start of surprise, and a pause of incredulous 
wonder at the grim gayety of her husband. David 
Ruland, looking very miserable, wrapped in a faded 
shawl, was cowering in a chimney-corner, and at the 
sight of me he gave a little cry, and feebly rose in his 
chair, only to sink back under the steely glance of his 
sister. But when I came toward him extending my 
hands, and he saw the pained look in my face, he broke 
into a sort of hysterical weeping, clinging to me and 
begging to be taken back to his old home. With 
feigned surprise, the miser demanded in an aggrieved 
tone, “ Why, what’s the matter, David ? Aren’t we kind 
to you ? ” 

“Oh, yes, yes,” murmured the unhappy man, “but 
I’ve been used to more comforts — you’re poor, you 
have had losses. I can’t expect you to do more. And 
when I go to bed, the noises about the house make my 
teeth chatter more than the cold. 

“I hear digging all night long, and creakings under 
ground like a ship tossing at sea ; and I have heard 
stealthy steps going in and out of rooms even in the 
day-time.” 

You should have seen the look of horror on Jesse 
Schanck’s face to have fully appreciated the supersti- 
tious terror that was always so easily aroused in his 
nature. His impudent features were sickbed over 
with a leaden hue, and his eyes cowered, then fixed 
into a glare, then cowered, changing momently, while 


324 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


his head shook sideways to and fro. Upon recovering 
himself, he called out, “ Why have you never spoken of 
this before David ? ” 

“ I was afraid you’d curse me. Oh, I want to go away ! 
I want to go home.” 

“It was the wind he heard,” said the house- wife 
sneeringly. “ The weak imagine every sound in an old 
house to be supernatural For my part, I sleep through 
the night with all dispatch. It is the only way to bring 
work round again. 

“ I had a maid once, God forgive me ! and when the 
slattern was not feeding, her mouth was full of the 
fumes of last night’s dreams and fears. Every rumble 
in the chimney, or crack that ran scurrying through 
the plaster, would make her start and scream ! Pah ! 
Whoever heard of an industrious person that saw 
ghosts ! ” 

And here she fell to rubbing an old lamp, and as if 
it had been Aladdin’s, there was heard a stealthy 
sound in the adjoining room as of some heavy body 
cased in fur, stepping softly about, and presently there 
was a deep breathing at the door. Hushed in the 
gathering darkness, we listened intently, until I sud- 
denly sprang up, throwing down my chair and rushed 
at the door, my flesh thrilling on me. I flung myself 
into the next room, followed by Jesse Schanck who 
encouraged me to proceed, but there was nothing there, 
though I could have sworn I saw the opposite door 
flung to. Lights were brought, and the half vacant 
rooms were explored, but there was no sign of any 
living thing, nor of a spectral visitant, so we were 
forced to believe our fancies had played us false. But 
I could but notice there was an illy-suppressed look of 
alarm on the miser’s face. 

David Ruland begged even more piteously, to be 


DAVID RULAND ALARMS THE MISER. 325 

taken to his old home, and when I looked into his wan 
face from which the reflections of the world were dying 
off, but ou which the shadows of the long night were 
gathering, I felt his feet were already far down into the 
lonesome valley, and that my face *iust be as some- 
thing dim but familiar, seen through mists and hurry- 
ing calamity. There could be little doubt in my mind 
that, the miser had hastily formed the plan to rid him- 
self betimes of his feeble brother-in-law, when he saw 
me and invited me in. But the prospect of his being 
left alone in a haunted house was not pleasant to him. 

“Why, David, David, ” he cried, with an appealing 
snarl, much like the wolf uses when the lamb is shrink- 
ing from bis blandishments, “would you leave us alone 
to starve in this dismal season ! What will become of 
your only sister, if you withdraw your pension from 
us? And besides they say the dying get glimpses 
behind the veil — you have heard the digging of graves, 
and the whisperings of unquiet souls, gossiping cold 
secrets under ground — have you caught no living 
vision of my son ? Have you not seen him loitering 
somewhere with profligate- princes as he journeys to- 
ward me? Is he near? Oh, David, David, get you. 
into the ethers, search the world for me, be back in the 
twinkling of any eye ! Have you found him ? ” 

The whole man was transformed, illuminated with a 
beacon which flared through him with a ghastly en- 
chantment, like that of a torch held aloft in a ruined 
donjon by an outlaw’s hand. The fitful gleam was re- 
flected in the face of his wife, and a certain softness 
crept over her severe features. 

She stooped forgetful for a moment, and fanned the 
coals into a feeble blaze, which, in another moment by 
a dextrous twist of the tongs she subdued. She was 
herself again, but her kindness had not all died out, 


326 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


for when her brother in a quivering voice, begged for a 
sup of milk, she brought him water, whispering, “It 
will not be so feverish, David.” She looked relieved 
too, when it was finally agreed that I should send for 
the sick man next* day. 

The miser followed me to the door, confiding in a 
rasping whisper, “ He will break when the frost does. 
I shall come to his death. There will be newk of my 
lost son.” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE WITNESSES ARE GATHERING. 

As if the earth, ranging remote at this most desolate 
season of the year, had burst into the chaos of some 
dissolving star, the winter and spring were long mem- 
orable for their awful storms, and for the extraordinary 
tides which came thundering up the beaches and spread 
inland to an amazing degree. 

Some declared deep awesome rumblings as of thunder 
falling and exploding in the granite caverns under 
ground, were sometimes heard, and said their floors 
rocked like rafts at sea, but so loudly blown were the 
trumpets of the winds in heaven, and the tempest, like 
that of a battle, was so laden with arrowy sleet and 
darts of hail, before which the forests groaned and 
the houses shuddered that, even if an earthquake had 
at times added its horrors, it must have passed un- 
heeded. And lonesome to each household was the 
dead calm that sometimes intervened when, in the deep 
night could be heard the show falling with soft, feath- 
ery puffs, against the windows, growing deeper against 
the dawn, till the heart ached to think of the ever in- 


THE WITNESSES ARE GATHERING. 


827 


creasing dreariness of the darksome days. Travel was 
impeded, the town was as lost from the rest of the liv- 
ing world, as if it too had, drifted down out of the 
wreck of heaven, and had fallen in the vast solitude of 
an Arctic desert. 

People, in the short days, wandered toward each 
other aimlessly under the spell of awe and forboding, 
for unusual manifestations of Nature, if long continued, 
upset the homely philosophies, and leave men a prey to 
mysterious impressions. The mind is grasping blindly, 
and the heart yields readily to its emotions. 

And thus it came about that a religious phrensy seized 
upon the city. Bells were tolling through the storm, 
from churches opened nightly, and thronged by ex- 
cited crowds. 

The clergy harangued with gloomy eloquence, and 
the fervid swing of voices chanting hymns, tore the 
music aloft and sent it sobbing through the air. An 
indescribable effect was produced, even upon those who 
were little wont to entertain a reverent thought, but 
to those thoroughly imbued, it amounted to a solemn 
ecstasy, deepened into melancholy, or jarred the throne 
of reason. Nor were there wanting many in whom 
blasphemy was invoked, instead of sacred fire. 

“ I have seen a strange thing to-night,” said Judge 
Brief, who had groped his way to my house from one 
of these meetings, and who now sat before a roaring 
fire in the library, while we discussed the prevailing 
topic. “I have seen a strange thing to-night. Jesse 
Sehanck, grim, uncouth, sardonic, came into the church, 
and stood warming himself, for the room was crowded, 
and the aisles blocked with excited mourners, and in 
the incongruous noises of praise, lamentations, prayer 
and exhortation, the constant, uneasy, shifting motions 
on the outskirts of the mass was unnoticed. In the 


328 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


gallery, where I, myself was, Mr. Granville, whom we 
have missed so long, leaned against a pillar and sur- 
veyed the scene, illy concealing his satirical smile. By 
his side, and apparently supporting him, for I believe 
Granville was intoxicated, was as ugly and venomous 
a hunchback, as I ever saw. Attracted by some unex- 
plainable hint as to the fellow’s identity, for I had a 
conviction that he was in some way disguised, I 
struggled through a number of people, all standing, un- 
til I came directly behind the man, and heard him mut- 
tering and making coarse jests. 

44 4 There’s the infernal miser,’ says he, 4 he has crept 
in out of the dark and cold to warm himself.’ 4 Yes,’ 
returned Granville, 4 see how he hugs the furnace and 
stores in heat until his bones redden in their jail of 
flesh! 

‘Now will he walk the muffled streets all night, se- 
cure from the curdlings of fear. He has become a 
very owl, or ghost, and rarely sleeps until the small 
hours, like gray mice, come creeping through the crack 
of dawn.’ 

44 1 looked down at Jesse Schanck, and noted how 
haggard he had become, and saw how his eyes turned 
left and right like those of a haunted animal. 

44 4 Devil’s have more pleasure,’ whispered Granville, 
‘than the Saints admit. To think of their dogging the 
footsteps of a felon, like his own base shadow ! putting 
about him, even in the air he breathes, the hints which 
must develop into frightful dreams! clapping their 
eyes to chiAks and crannies, and their ears to key-holes 
in the air, while they peruse his features when he 
thinks himself alone, and catch the slightest murmer 
of his lips when he bandies confidences between his 
black heart and villain brain ! bending over him, when 
wearied out, a sort of savage sleep has sprung upon 


THE WITNESSES ARE GATHERING. 


329 


him like a panther, they note the gurgle in his throat ! 
the struggle of the bond-slave within his breast, as it 
tears hither and thither ! Oh, this were pastime 
worthy the craft of subtlest spirit that ever dipped a 
bat’s wing in the dark profound ! ’ 

“ Even as he spoke, as if his soul could feel the airy 
wounding of an enemy, Jesse Schanck looked up, and 
straight toward them. An intolerable hate, like a 
poison, concentrated on the barb of his glance. The 
liunch-back, as if he could not contain himself for 
wicked joy, gave a succession of low, dismal howls, and 
then in pantomime made as if he were pouring from a 
bottle into a glass some liquid, which he stirred and 
drank, and then reeled as if in deadly qualms. Anon 
he takes an imaginary dagger, and -makes as if he 
would plun'ge it in his own throat. At this Granville, 
who seemed himself to feel some fear of the ruffian, be- 
seeched him to stop, saying, ‘ There, there, you have 
baited him enough ! ’ But the fellow, probably intoxi- 
cated too, turned on him, when, fearing an unseemly 
struggle, I leaned forward and whispered something in 
his ear, which made the brute leap and fall forward 
with a hideous cry. 

“ I knew I could not be mistaken — I was sure of it 
as soon as I heard his voice — the hump-back was but a 
disguise; the man was the leader of the pirates, whom 
I defended against the charges of Jesse Schanck more 
than thirty years ago. Evidently he has come back for 
revenge. But this is not all. When he fell forward in 
his fit, the commotion caused a great number of people 
on the floor to look upward toward the gallery. Among 
these there was one, a bold-e} r ed handsome woman, who 
gave a loud cry and endeavored to free herself from the 
crush and reach the stairs. Granville appeared to have 
a confused recollection of her, and as if he would avoid 


330 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


her, urged the hunch-back to his feet, and away. 
Leaning upon the latter, he walked heavily out of the 
crowd and down the opposite stairs, and out into the 
night. Whew ! how the snow was sifting on the blast ! 
and the darkness mixed with the snow, like gray 
wolves rushing on all sides of one. Suffice it to say, I 
lost the men, and while I stood uncertain, a fisher 
passed me bearing a lantern. ’Twas a queer hour for 
strange memories — I thought him the apostate pilot of 
long ago ! Guided by the man, I found your door, and 
by your leave I’ll take another glass of this cordial old 
wine, which like a swarm of bees buzzes in me, and 
stinging, drives the frost out.” 

And here the old lawyer leaned back in his great 
leathern chair and was silent, while the wind moaned 
in the chimney, and the big logs roared, and the flames 
went seething up into the falling snow. For my part I 
did not take the interest he, thought. I would in his 
story. I was in a grieved state of mind, and all my re- 
flections were tinged with melancholy. Five months 
had gone by, and it was now the middle of January 
and I had learned nothing, and for any clue I had, 
things might go on thus forever. I was still in the 
dark as to my own proper identity, with a slowly grow- 
ing conviction that I should never see my father, and I 
must believe that my mother had been long dead. I, 
for the want of a better, must still retain the name of 
Jude Ruland, but it had grown hateful to me. It must 
have been so to the poor lady who had been my foster- 
parent, for she had been tricked, as it were, into the 
marriage which endowed her with it ; but how much 
more so to me, who must have an honorable name long 
descended from ancestors unknown and who bore this 
enforced one much as the brave spirit must the livery 
of service to a weak and contemptible master. And 


THE WITNESSES ARE GATHERING. 331 

further, however much I endeavored to exclude that 
source of disquietude from my mind, in the hope I had 
of meeting her in the summer, the love I had for Marie 
tormented me with fears and longings until my very 
heart’s core was gnawed upon by a sleepless passion. 

And in all my brooding, all my speculation, my spirit 
like a ship tossed upon the long breakers, came always 
to the same belief that, Jesse Sehanck, even more than 
Mr. Granville, held the solution of my problem. But 
how to obtain it from him, was ever the question. The 
slow paces by which mortal will decomposes and yields 
up its secrets, as the rocks crumble and discover the 
hidden gold, to my quick longing seemed, like the in- 
terminable marches of eternity. I felt a disdain of the 
analytical mind of the lawyer, who by his mental proc- 
esses was ever coming upon the track of this hoary 
reprobate, only to see him vanishing ; and then like a 
hound at fault, he must laboriously gather his evidence, 
before making the next ineffectual pursuit. In my 
anger, at times, I felt that were I in the presence of the 
usurer I would bandy no words, but seizing him by the 
throat would shake his life to the black threshold of 
death, but I would have him confess. But there sat 
the lawyer glozing comfortably in the ruddy heat, the 
wrinkles in his high brow unbending like slack bow- 
strings, and his gray eyes dancing toward me, as if 
mine must be partners in some measure his sooth 
thought was playing. 

“ Well,” said I, testily, feeling I must speak, “what 
have you gained by it all? That Jesse Schanck is 
hated and hates, we knew before. That he is driven 
abroad, like an evil spirit, at all hours of the night, I 
have long known. The only thing I see in it is, that 
you had power by whispering in the pirate’s ear, to 
make him fall, and must have power then, to use him 


832 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


as 3^011 command. But this seems mere by -play to the 
tragedy that must be enacted.” 

“ What tragedy is that, Jude?” And the old man 
looked on me with unmoved kindness. 

I rose impetuously and took three strides — there was 
a feeble cry in the next room, “ Oh, Jesse ! Jesse ! don’t 
drive me to sleep in that haunted room ! Did you strike 
me, Jesse ! Oh, oh ! ” 

“ What cry was that ? ” called the lawyer, in a 
startled tone. 

“ It is Mr. Ruland. He sleeps badly. He is very 
ill.” And I went in to the old man and comforted 
him. 

“ Shall I give 3^011 some of the wine ? It will make 
you feel better, and then you will sleep.” 

“ No, 110 ; it does me no good. It gives me frightful 
dreams,” whispered the sick man. “ Jesse used to give 
it to’ me; it was almost the only kindness he showed 
me — but from the first I got weaker and weaker. But 
as my strength failed and my limbs refused to move, 
my hearing got keener and keener. I could hear them 
digging, digging, all the night long, and hear them 
whispering down in the earth. Oh, it was horrible ! ” 

“ Yes, yes,” I whispered soothingty, “ Let me give 
you the anodine which the doctor prescribed, and then 
you will sleep sweetly. Don’t . start ! It is only the 
wind you hear prowling about the eaves. It is a wild 
night — the snow is still descending.” 

“ I thought I heard Jesse,” he murmured, when he 
had taken the draught, and composed himself. “It 
seemed as if he were tramping about the porch and 
muttering. Sometimes he would not come in till to- 
ward dawn, and in his absence they would come out of 
the earth and walk about the cellars. I could hear 


THE WITNESSES AEE GATHERING. 333 

them moving chests— and — breaking — into — ” here his 
voice died away and the invalid slept. 

“ His mind wanders,” I said, in answer to the judge’s 
question, when I returned to the library, “ and particu- 
larly at night he lies awake and raves as you have heard 
him. The wine? Oh, that is some that Jesse Schanck 
sent from his cellar. It seems very old and rich, but 
Mr. Ruland is prejudiced against it, and believes he 
gets no strength from its use. Yes, there is a bottle of 
it open in his room ; will you taste it ? ” I rose on 
tip-toe and stole into the room. The old man was sleep- 
ing calmly. 

The judge poured some of the wine into a glass and 
eyed it critically. “ It has a fine boquet,” he declared, 
“and the houri’s eyes sparkle in it —and it tastes,— it 
tastes — like the rarest essence — but there is a flavor — 
ah ! ” He put it down on the table and seemed lost in 
thought, then he tasted the wine again and threw the 
remainder in the fire. “ Old port, is the true and 
sturdy drink after all ! ” cried he. “Rut let us return 
to the tragedy — what did you mean, Jude ? ” 

Any interruption, or the vacancy of five trifling min- 
utes, alters the whole plan of one’s thoughts, and 
though they stand they will not deliver to a question, 
as at first they had a mind to do. It is like plucking a 
living man from the deep — if you relax your hold for a 
single moment the vortex has swallowed him in, and 
you see him no more. I was no longer heated. I sat 
still, and talked coolly, and uttered no inflamed invec- 
tive, but none the less was I wearied and sad. 

Each man’s life is a tragedy to himself alone. His 
dearest friend, or the wife of his bosom, cannot com- 
mensurately soar aloft with his ambition, nor yearn 
with the sweet thrill of pain to the music of his long- 
ing; nor can they grasp the horror of the eagle struck 


384 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


in the clouds by the envious dart, as falling and dying 
he leaves the zenitli and rushes helpless on his doom ! 
Each lives his bitterest experience alone. Joy can be 
shared — it is a worldling — it can dimple in a thousand 
merry cheeks — but grief is a recluse, and even if 
courted, unveils herself but scantily to her lover. 

“ As I look at you,” said, the lawyer, pausing at the 
end of a long conversation, “ I perceive you are not 
well. Your face is haggard and your eyes sunken. Let 
me offer you some encouragement. Even this incredi- 
ble winter is helping you — the weather will be milder 
before a week has gone, and when the usual mid-winter 
thaw has set in, the bay will be unlocked, the ice 
broken, and the very bottom of the sea will be dragged 
by the great storms which will usher in the second cold, 
and whatever evidence is there, will be brought to 
light. The hunch-back brings himself into my power, 
for an old indictment hangs over him, and he will now 
at his age turn state’s evidence rather than accept a 
second sentence, and I think he will implicate the us- 
urer in a grave crime. Mr. Granville I am sure is not 
idle, and though he may be working for himself, it will 
be much like the enterprise of the merchant, who is 
forced to bestow favors for the sake of his own aggran- 
dizement. The sailor whom you saw in the old grave- 
yard and who was once thought to be dead, is no 
other than the mate of the wrecked ship, as I have 
ascertained, and must needs be in the city, since his 
wife is here to-night. And I believe I have seen 
him ! They have been driven from their hut by the 
storms. The witnesses are all gathering, the criminal 
cannot remain concealed.” 

I smiled faintly, as a courtesy, but I was not 
cheered. I knew the wrinkled wise-man would of all 
things like me to ask him the reason of the hope he 


TO UNIMAGINABLE SHORES. 


335 


offered. How he would parade the subtle research, 
and exhibit the links that chained his facts, and hold 
forth the ultimate conclusion ! But I was in no mood. 
I looked up at the tall corner clock, on the stroke of 
twelve, and gravely proposed to light him to his 
room. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

TO UNIMAGINABLE SHORES. 

It must have been an hour afterward, sitting alone 
by the dying fire, which shed a dull, comfortable 
heat even to the furthest wall, that I heard the 
two great dogs which, yielding to the fears of the 
servants, robberies having occurred in the town dur- 
ing the winter, were regularly turned loose when 
the house was hushed for the night. They were 
making strong rushes on all sides through the 
snow, as if to assure themselves that all was safe. The 
wind had died down, and wondering if the snow had 
ceased falling, I went to the window and drew the cur- 
tain aside. A feeble glimmer of the moon as she rolled 
through a choppy sea of clouds, convinced me that the 
storm was over, and the ruffian blasts were making 
condor flights into the zenith, and, bursting the frozen 
rim of night, were winging with loudest uproar to un- 
imaginable shores. Suddenly the dogs began to bark 
furiously. I threw up the window and called to them, 
fearing the invalid might awake disturbed. I saw them 
as if at bay, a short distance from me, and thought I dis- 
covered a shapeless mass lying under one of the win- 
dows. Hastily throwing on a cloak, I went out. 

The air was still, and bitterly cold, the snow lying 


# 


336 PHANTOM DAYS. 

in winding drifts about the house. The dogs were 
snarling over the -body of a man, which I quickly 
clutched out of the mound the wind had piled about it, 
and dragged it into the hall. I summoned old Caesar, 
who assisted me in bearing the apparently lifeless body 
into the kitchen, where the warm baths and vigorous 
rubbing, my arch-enemy, for‘it was he, was sufficiently 
revived to speak. I had poured him a glass of wine 
and pressed it to his lips, but he held his mouth firmly 
closed, and shook his head obstinatety. I put my hand 
over his merciless heart — it scarcely moved. 

“ You must take the wine — you shall ! ” I cried ; 
fearing his soul would escape me before its day of 
reckoning on earth. He mumbled out some words I 
could not understand. “Drink! drink!” I urged 
fiercely. Again he struggled to speak, “ Is — it — the — 
wine — ” 

“ Yes, yes, drink, or you will die ! ” 

“ Is — it — David’s wine ? ” 

“Yes, the old wine you sent him — drink quickly! 
You’re heart is almost inaudible.” 

“Bring — me — brandy!” he gasped, and he threw 
down the cup I held. 

I got him brandy with utmost dispatch. He gulped 
it down with all the frenzy of a dying man. The heart 
began to stir itself, but soon it flagged, and again the 
brandy was resorted to. Finally he sat up and looked 
around him in a wild way. His countenance was dis- 
ordered like that of a man who has been thrice swept 
round Maelstrom and yet escaped. He tossed his 
diabolical eyes like brands on all sides of him, and 
muttered snatches of fearful intelligence. Looking at 
the astonished servant, lie motioned him away. The 
moment we were alone he made as if he would seize 
the decanter, which I tried to prevent, thinking him 


TO UNIMAGINABLE SHORES. 


BBT 


not altogether accountable. The thought flashed hotly 
through me that, if I should let him have his way, he 
might unbosom himself of secrets long hoarded, as he 
had done under the artful management of Granville, 
but I had as lieve drug a man to rob him of his money, 
as to steal his councils from him with the knavish use 
of wine. Even if that man, as here, should be my 
enemy and usurper of my rights. But he struggled 
like a maniac crying, 

“ I will have it, by heaven, I will ! The Schancks to 
the remotest drone in the human hive, that sired the 
next of name, were always a thirsty race. My old jug 
has gaped long — ah ! gulp ! gulp ! go trickling down to 
your incendiary fellows! No poison here! You, 
shall be my tapster, Jude, and not Granville. I can 
trust you — and yet I fain would cross my tricky wit 
like a cutlass, with any imp’s in the world, so you were 
out of it.” 

And here he drank again, and deeply ; the choleric 
liquor, flaming back, defiantly, in his face. As if there 
were a tussle within him, as in a tavern two brawny 
sailors contend for mastery, he struggled and grew 
purple, laughing horribly and uttering blasphemies. 

“How’s David? Does he still suck in the vital air?” 

“ His second-childhood is longer than his first,” said 
I, “ as eternity affords room for ampler manhood.” 

“ Bah ! ” he gurgled, “ what will sflch imbeciles do 
there! A mad-house is a proper heaven to a fool. There 
can he sit Lord of the Universe, and make his sickly 
mines superlative, at his fellow who, wanting inven- 
tion, apes but to be Alexander and Lord of the World ! 
This rich old liquor, like a fire put in a cold, dark 
room, warms and illumines to my highest sense. The 
vapors of black thought hang round the cornices, and 
shapes of demons are vanishing through the arches.” 

22 


888 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


I felt a horrible fascination drawing me toward 
the man, and his tongue ran on, scampering before 
his thought like the midnight steed the fiend be- 
strides, who scatters fearful dreams on hangman’s eve. 

“ Brandy ! Give me more brandy ! Do you crumple 
your hospitality like a bank note in your palm, while 
you toss a copper to the needy ? Why should you, 
hesitate at even setting a spigot flowing at each end of 
the cask, who have had cellar and house, land and stock, 
all thrown into your beggar’s lap by the woman that’s 
gone ? ” 

“ Why should you call for drink,” I protested, 
“ who have just escaped the surges of the lake of fire ? 
You that have preserved the cold calculations of 
your brain by abstinence through all these dreadful 
years ! ” 

“That is why,” he breathed forth, in the greatest 
excitement, “ that is why I demand it. I have merited 
it. I have stood on the volcanic shore this night, and 
have seen that lake curling and hissing as it tossed, and 
I would forget it. 

“ I feel my brain reeling of late — it no longer enter- 
tains speculation. It has lost its grasp on great designs. 
It is time to call home my faculties, to gather in my 
wealth, before disaster comes. The brandy ! nephew, 
Jude, — What is your name ? ” 

“ I cannot give you any more, and ” muttering 

to myself— “ though I believe it would pick the pad- 
locks of your mind, and throw the doors open to me, I 
cannot give you more.” 

“What is it?” he cried suspiciously. 

“ Come, come,” I continued, “ now that you are 
recovered let me put you to bed, for the moon must 
be gone down, and it’s the blackest part of the night. 
I would not turn my enemy’s dog into the wintry 


TO UNIMAGINABLE SHORES. 


339 


desert at such an hour. Come ! You shall have Tom’s 
old room ! ” 

“ Damn you for that ! ” he shouted. “ Put me to bed ? 
Not till the dawn ! I was always lover of the dark. 
Nothing has been so droll as to walk by debtors’ doors, 
while they snored, puffing the hours away ! and while 
I clapped their bonds and mortgages against my heart — 
armour of proof — to mock their struggles with the air, 
while they were so passive to gyves the good laws 
fasten on them. And then — and then — of late I can- 
not dispossess me of the strange belief that dead men 
can walk. That there are dead men who mingle day 
by day with the living — even talk on stupid worldly 
things, and eat and drink — everything but sleep. Al- 
ways awake — horribly awake — biding their time.” 

“ Perhaps they carry bond and mortgage, too.” 

“ The fiend take you for that thought ! To be dead 
is to lie in a desert — there’s nothing after. The popu- 
lous mart, the busy hive, that’s for the living ! This 
world has ever been the only world to me. Therefore 
I am alarmed and wonder at myself that, like a 
gloomy poet walking under the pillars of night, I 
should so fill the world with quaint imaginings. 
Jude, thou wert ever an honest lad — tell me truly, 
do I seem in my right mind? Am I harsh — ob- 
stinate — cruel as a dirk — defiant — lawless — terrible 
to men ? ” 

“ Yes, you are all that ! ” 

“ Thank God, then ! My wits are weary — not de- 
serting me ! In this age when men are slaves of the bot- 
tle, I have kept my lips secure from its uses — with 
water alone, have I irrigated my brain.” 

“ Why, then, do you demand it now?” 

“ Because it stimulates invention. It puts the figures 
on the stage and makes them act like forty Garricks. 


340 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


I never knew its virtue, though always hankering for it, 
until that night that Granville dosed me. Villain ! I 
thought my tongue would betray me like a crazy porter 
at the gate — but when you were gone, I thought of so 
many cunning plans to trip you both. Ha ! ha ! I 
would think of them again — or make better. How 
I should like to see that fellow dancing on hot plates, 
or quaking down from his eminence to be no better 
than a living jelly ! — I’m in my right mind — there are 
no ghosts ! ” 

At this moment, when he was hushed and there was a 
profound silence throughout the house, suddenly there 
was heard the most startling sound as of a huge reptile 
slipping down the big stairway. Right across the wide 
hall, and rearing itself against the dining-room, which 
clicked and opened with a long-drawn creak, came a 
rustling, panting body. The drunken usurer reeled in 
affright, and as if I were held down by lead I stag- 
gered forward and threw open the kitchen door, and 
looked into the vacant dining-room. The light from 
the blazing logs streamed fitfully in — but there was 
nothing to be seen. I felt a shudder go through my 
heart, as the rustling sound began again, and crawling 
and panting into the kitchen came David Ruland in 
his night robes, and reared himself against a chair, look- 
ing with piercing eyes into the face of the alarmed 
usurer, who screamed aloud, “ Are you dead too, and 
come to haunt me ? ” 

“Not dead, Jesse, but dying! The nights are so 
long and lonely since she went into her grave — I lie 
awake thinking, thinking, and I hear every sound in the 
old house, and even the movement of the dogs in their 
drowsy kennels — and I heard you brought in out of the 
snow ; and how you have been talking, talking, so 
long, and I knew Jude was no match for your cunning. 


TO UNIMAGINABLE SCORES. o4l 

Yon must tell him all, Jesse. You must give him up 
his father. You must make restitution.” 

The miser fell foaming off his chair— his heavy heels 
were beating the floor. I ran to the invalid and raised 
him, imploring him to let me carry him to his room. 
“ No, no, kind heart !” he whispered, “ cover me with 
a rug, it is warm here, and I must talk this last time, 
with Jesse.” 

Though the duty was repugnant I helped my un- 
happy enemy to his feet, and ran to get a rug, but be- 
fore I had returned I heard him at the decanter, which 
I wrested from him and threw into the fire. His eyes 
were dilated and staring, and his frosty hair was rising 
on his head. He was counting on his fingers, “ One, — 
two — three — four ! Four of them have come back!” 

I shook him violently, in my excitement, “Did you 
hear,” I shouted, u You are to tell me all — you are to 
give up my father — you are to make restitution ! ” 

He turned upon me with a dreadful oath, and struck 
a savage blow which, though warded, fell like iron on 
my arm. 

“ Oh, David, David,” he began with a whimpering 
cry, which rose steadily to a plaintive shriek, “go back 
to your winding sheet and be buried like a man ! ” 

“ Jesse,” returned the other, “ I have strength at 
last, to defy you. You must give up all — you must 
make restitution.” 

“ All, all ! Why, David, you know I have got noth- 
ing. I have lived like a slave. I have toiled, and 
hoarded, and agonized — I have denied myself pleasure, 
dress, and hospitality. When I have craved these 
things, I have hushed the longing with the whisper, 
4 Wait till he comes! ’ When I desired worldly honor 
with a straining ambition that almost tugged the heart 
out of my body, it was so fierce— when I saw men in 


342 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


high places, who wanted the energy of purpose, the 
unrelenting grasp, the almost satanic wisdom that I 
possessed ; men whom I could have wrested from the 
dais like kings of straw, and whose thrones I could 
have filled with masterful spirit, I have shrunk from 
the vast expense of power, but comforted myself with 
the assurance that, I wouM take my exalted right when 
he had come. For come, I am sure he will. The child 
I have not seen for forty years — though he has tarried 
long on some glittering coast — he will tear himself 
from the flatteries of trooping friends, will leave the 
purple and the pomp, and will come to me before I die. 
And when he comes, will he not cherish me for the 
sleepless toils, the damning privations and the hoarded 
gains ! ” 

“ He would view you with abhorrence. But he will 
never come ! ” 

“ Now curse you for a false ghost ! Look well about 
you and hearken to the whispers of genii in the air ! 
Oh, if he were dead ! then would I crack my heart 
against these flinty bones that thatch it in ! Then all 
of us should die. What should a sorrowful fellow like 
Jude, there, find in life to hold him anchored to the 
lonesome shore ? He has no origin, nor dazzling influ- 
ence, nor coffers plethoric and swelling to the lids — 
but these my boy has ! my tall son ! my stately hero ! 
You prate of restitution — why, if in holiday humor — 
I, laughing old gray-beard, holding the open bag, for 
he shall have his will- — if in holiday humor he tossed 
back into their greedy maws, all that I have ever taken 
in sharp ^practices from the stupid ones, though he 
should divide to the half penny, there would still be 
capital enough for a prince. I have been so wise, so 
wary, — T have whipped the cream from great and mimic 
transactions — I have controlled markets and I have 


TO UNIMAGINABLE SHORES. 


343 


made them. Had I been treasurer of this nation, 
America would have owned the world — but these great 
labors I shall leave to my son. He will have an am- 
bition that will be ever rising in his breast, like an eagle 
forever climbing the cliffs that prop the stars ! 

“Oh, Jesse,” moaned the other, “will you consume 
time with these frenzies, when the minutes are so dear ! 
If the end of the world was at hand — -the sky blazing 
with the coming of the Son of God, would you prate 
of your hoards and your ambitions? Would you not 
dispossess -yourself of your ill-gotten lucre as of a 
venomed shirt, and purge your soul of iniquity ? Lo ! 
the end of the world is not far off to any living man ! 
Are you still obdurate ? Then must I tell all that I 
know — ” 

“ All that you know ! ” burst forth the other, with a 
horrible laugh. “ All that you know ! — why, I have 
told you nothing but lies ! Did you think I would un- 
bosom myself to such an one as thou ? Why you have 
been my dupe all these years ! ” 

His victim shrank visibly, thrusting a wasted hand 
before his face, as though a veil had been torn away 
leaving his spirit painful to the light. His voice came 
small and thin, as though from a great distance, but 
every word was distinct though I leaned breathlessly 
to hear it. 

“But have you not unloaded yourself truthfully to 
your own ears? I have heard you talking to yourself 
in those old vaults under your house ! When you had 
forced me to drink of the purple wine and had left me 
languishing on my bed, bidding me to dream of your 
S011 — m y senses would be so keen ! I would hear you, 
oh, so softly muttering, muttering, as you searched 
amongst the musty books and papers under ground — ” 

“ Liar ! ” shrieked the atrocious one Do not counte- 


344 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


nance his tongue one moment 1 He is idiotic — he 
would tell his morbid dreams! Would you let lymph 
— jelly — a reptile without anatomy — discourse to brawn 
and brain like ours? See here ! ” Suiting the word to 
action, he darted upon the sick man and bent him 
backward like a worm. “ Great God ! he has been 
dead for hours ! ” he shrieked, and dropping the inani- 
mate form he rushed into the gray morning. 

I had sprung forward at the moment he had seized 
David Ruland, but it was all done in the twinkling of 
an eye. The ruffian was gone before I could prevent 
or arrest him. I stood staring at the work he had left. 
The body hung backward over the arm of the chair, 
the eyes open but fixed. I pulled the fearful object 
down upon the floor — the skin was cool — there was no 
pulse — the heart did not beat — there was no warmth. 
The arms and legs bent in like ropes when I lifted 
them — indeed the body did not seem the same — there 
appeared to be no skeleton to support the flesh. While 
I was making frantic efforts at resuscitation, the door 
opened from without and the fiend looked in — 

“They will say you murdered him! ” he whispered 
hoarsely. 

There was an old sword hung over the mantel-piece 
— I snatched it down, and made a furious lunge. 
He fled incontinently and I was once more alone. 
I heard a stir above me, as though the domestics 
were rising. I bolted the door, and picking up what 
was once David Ruland, in my arms, I staggered from 
the room. As I went up the long stairway, his head 
and arms dropped down over my shoulder, the dawn 
looked sullenly in. 


MALACOSTEOtf. 


345 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

MALACOSTEON. 

The fire was out in tlie library, the room was stone- 
cold when the lawyer c^me creaking in and found me 
sitting there alone, gazing into the ashes. 

“ I’ve had a bad night,” said he, “ I missed the wind 
in the chimney, or something. I slept badly and I’ve 
had fearful dreams. . Gad ! you haven’t been up all 
night, have you? You look queerly. Plow’s David?” 

I was just on the point of saying “ Dead,” when 
there was a rustle in the next room, and the strangest, 
thin, and creaking voice called “Jude !” 

As I did not move for amazement, and did not speak, 
Judge Brief went in. I heard him speaking cheer- 
fully. 

“ Good morning, David, I hope you have slept well. 
The back bone of winter is broken — the thaw has . be- 
gun. The eaves are dripping. Would you like some- 
thing ? ” 

“ Send — me — J ude.” 

I staggered slowly in. There he lay as I had left 
him, covered to the eyes, but the eyes were open, 
blank, expressionless, and fixed upon the ceiling. I 
leaned over him, and put my own eyes against the 
direction of his, but there was no look of intelligence. 
I felt of his flesh, it was cool, but nowhere rigid, the 
heart did not beat, the chest was unexpanded. Despite 
all this, however, through the unmoving lips came these 
words, “You* shall know all in the morning,” 

The use of cordials and restoratives, baths and fric- 


346 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


tion were vainly persisted in, while one of the negroes 
was sent off at a round gallop through the snow for Dr. 
Murray. When he came he declared death to have 
just occurred, during catalepsy. When I called his at- 
tention to the mobility of' the flesh, the doctor, at first 
casually, then with minute elaboration, examined all 
parts of the dead man’s person, with that steady glow 
of enthusiasm which visits his profession upon the dis- 
covery of a rare disease. 

“ Satisfy yourself, sir,” I said, as I left the room, “ for 
I have some grave questions to ask you.” He gave an 
averted bow and we left him alone. 

All day from the eaves came the drip, drip, of falling 
water, and a dense fog, gave a second night to nature. 
In the house the candles were lighted at noon, and 
were not extinguished again until next day. At last, 
when we three were closeted, I fixed my eyes on the 
physician, and with the judge waited his opinion. The 
doctor, as I before remarked, was antiquarian in his 
tastes, and his love of old learning had made him ran- 
sack a prodigious amount of black letter and vellum, 
in the libraries accessible in our own country and in 
Europe, where he had spent some years of his early 
life. Coupled with this, his keen research into human 
ills which he was wont to say where unwilling wit- 
nesses, made me confidently expect much from the in- 
terview. The judge had been made acquainted with 
my suspicions, though he had made no comment upon 
them. 

“ 1 could not have believed,” began Doctor Murray, 
“ that David could have so long concealed a secret so 
interesting. I confess I feel impatient at his having 
done so. It lias been long since he has been under my 
observation. I might not have cured him', but I would 
have studied his case with vivid energy, and at last 


MALACOSTEON. 


34T 


have embalmed him in a monograph which would 
have carried him like the fly in amber to remote gener- 
ations.” 

And here he fell to a long musing. It was his wont, 
and this was why, to many people there seemed such 
an abruptness in his delivery. He would suddenly 
break off from his discourse, involved in nebulse of 
thought, and after a long time, begin, not where he left 
off, but where he had done thinking. It was much like 
seeing a ship sail with exalted canvas into the obscur- 
ity of rolling mists, and after many days reappear from 
just such a bank of clouds — the voyage completed, but 
her wanderings in the interim unknown. 

“ It is malacosteon,” he said, “ and though incon- 
venient, something to be proud .of. Saadi, a comtem- 
porary of Maliummid, was known as a boneless man ; 
then Abon, in the ninth century recorded another 
case ; Duverney, that of Marquise d’Armaguae, and 
Morand in 1772 gave the history of Madame Supiot. 
There is nothing nature does with patient skill but 
that she can undo without waiting for the secrecy of 
the charnal house. There is a death in life, as here, 
where the bony tissues melt and become soft, man 
erecting himself no more with fine carriage, but rep- 
tile-like falling upon the earth and crawling back into 
his first condition.” 

Judge Brief helped himself to a prodigious pinch 
of snuff, and having cleared his mental atmosphere, 
demanded sententiously the name of the disease. 

“ Malacosteon,” replied Dr. Murray, absently. 

“ Zounds, Doctor,” returned the other, “ it seems to 
me your profession is fond of larding the common- 
place with Latin— why couldn’t you say, softening of 
the bones and be done with it?” 

In my impatience I could have wished them both in 


348 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the centre of the great fog outside, through which 
came the muffling, sounds of the church bell, for it 
seemed to me there was nothing to come of all my 
expectation. And as to argument between men, it al- 
ways seems to me like the gin and traps of spiders in- 
tent upon catching one another, but never truth. 
Therefore I hastily broke in, “ But what causes this 
disease, Dr. Murray ? ” 

“ You must have observed him. Has he been weak, 
aimless, stooping, ageing, suffering, helpless ? Has he 
been dwarfing in stature, querulous, shrinking back 
into the animal, leaving intellect, as a courtier backs 
from the presence of the king ? Has he had depraved 
appetites, shunning cookery and distillations ? Has 
his voice quavered and his tongue gone lisping down 
the gamut ? Has he had strange and dark imaginings ? 
Have the brute senses of smell, or taste, or sight, feel- 
ing, or hearing been sharpened or augmented ? Oh, I 
have missed rare opportunities ! You must supply 
what I have lost. I have already questioned the 
domestics and such of his friends as have drifted in 
here out of the fog. They tell me he was long failing. 
Now that it is mentioned, they do remember he gradu- 
ally descended from his high occupations, shipped his 
ever youthful spirit — ” 

“ Oh, doctor,” I broke in anxiously, “do not let your 
love of research into the by-ways of medicine delude 
you here. This man has been poisoned ! His mala- 
costeon is but evidence if you will but help us to it.” 

“ Poison,? Who should poison poor, harmless David 
Ruland? He had no craft, nor malice, no ambition, 
nor revenge, no expectation, nor resource that should 
make him prey to avarice, or objectionable to men.” 

“But suppose him possessed of a fatal secret! You 
know how long he has been under the influence of a 


MALACOSTEOX. 


349 


desperate man. Suppose that man’s influence waning, 
his speculation infertile, his mind haunted, his fears 
gnawing away his resolution as if with acid. Suppose 
him calling home his wealth, severing his connections, 
retiring into his fastness. Would he not seek to oblit- 
erate the memories of old crimes and hush the mouths 
of witnesses beyond assail of question or of cavil ? ” 

The physician looked straight at me, smiling as one 
far off. But when he answered, his questions staggered 
mine, as with blows of men-at-arms. “ Does the assas- 
sin, whose haste you have made imminent, strike a fell 
blow, or does he send his victim on a long fantastic 
course to death? If he chooses .poison does he dip the 
potion from some slow, meandering stream, or does he 
not rather instill drops of fearful zest ? There are poi- 
sons so subtile and so deft that, like bribed jailors en- 
tering at midnight, they strike the shackles from the 
bond spirit and vanish with it, leaving no trace behind. 
But to whom to you allude ? ” 

“To Jesse Schanck.” 

“ Why suspect him of such a crime ? And by what 
means do you suppose he accomplished it ? ” 

All the sinister recollections of my life came clamor- 
ing up in my mind like a host of witnesses about the 
suspected man. I thought of the hidden alchemy in 
that old cellar, the tortured monkey, the explosion of 
chemicals, the ape, the spotted cacti, the miser’s horri- 
ble fascination for deformed objects. I explained my- 
self at length, and brought into the library a bottle of 
the wine. The doctor listened and pondered, as the 
judge had done, and when I had concluded my story, 
he examined the bottle critically with a magnifying 
glass. 

“ There is old dust on this bottle,” he exclaimed, 
“ which long exposure to damp has converted into a 


850 


PHANTOM DAYS. 

sort of varnish. It is crusted in every crevice of the 
cork. The wire that binds it is little more than an ox- 
ydation. One can scarcely touch it but it crumbles. 
Surely it has never been removed since it was first 
placed here. I draw the cork and cut it across — you 
see it is the original one, it has never been removed 
before — there is no sign of that. It follows if there 
was good wine here at first— good wine it remains. Age 
does not mellow virtue into anything but benevolence. 
If this liquid was a poison when first introduced into 
the bottle, we can prove it to be a poison still. It has 
the odor of Burgundian vineyards. Give me a glass. 
I’d as leave soften my old bones as not, — they’re devil- 
ish hard at times. Try some of this Judge ! It 
might raise a man’s spirit out of the flesh, but hardly 
pull his flesh away from his spirit. Give me a new cork. 
I’ll take this home with me and make an analysis, and 
institute some experiments. Have you more of it ? I 
may need a case or two.” 

“ This malacosteon,” said the Judge stiffly, “ is it long 
coming ? ” 

“ It is a sloth, but it travels faster than old age. Like 
a dog, it gnaws a bone with patient leisure. It may 
be ten to twenty years in reducing the lower skele- 
ton.” 

“ Which poisons soften the bones?” 

“ None "that I am acquainted with, which would not 
sooner corrode the finer tissues of 'the body, and cause 
death before the skeleton succumbed. And yet in mal- 
acosteon the long bones disappeal while the cranium 
remains firm, so that, as with David, hysteria might 
sharpen a special sense, as hearing, until it tasted the 
essence of sound that grosser ears might covet but 
never reach,” 


MALACOSTEOX. 


351 


“ Then,” said I, “ you admit his hearing was wonder- 
fully acute?” 

“ I am not prepared to admit anything that I have 
not investigated. I have found so many hallucinations 
visiting the ill. Nerves that had never borne a fancy, 
under the tropical stimulus of fever, flower thick. 
The soul is no longer of this world, but moves in 
lands of horrible enchantment. We should all of 
us become as mad as March hares, did we believe too 
seriously what is called back to us over the hedge from 
that dim border land between life and death. What 
seemed phenomenal hearing in David Ruland might 
have been borne of the fleeting phantoms of old wives’ 
tales told him in infancy, for he would have seemed to 
have raved to you of ghostly sounds and voices, things 
empty and void, as he never gave you even one scrap 
of all the conversations he professed to have heard un- 
der the earth.” 

The Judge arose with malcontent, and paced the 
floor with long strides. Secretly chagrined, I excused 
myself as one who must look after the affairs of his 
household, and went below stairs, aimlessly wandering 
about the rooms. In a few minutes Judge Brief came 
down to me, putting his arm with a sympathetic pres- 
sure, through mine. 

“ My dear Jude,” said he, “you are strained and 
tired. Leave the rest to me, and I beg you go to bed. 
The doctor is in one of his brown studies, and has not 
noticed the departure of either of us. I will make 
your excuses, and when I am done with him, I will 
show him to the blue-room, shall I not ? ” 

But I felt I must make one more assault, and would 
not accede to the request of my old friend. When we 
had returned to the library, we found the logs burning 
cheerily and the physician still in a profund revery. 


352 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


But we had scarcely seated ourselves when he turned, 
and began, “If truth could be coerced there’s no man 
but would make her testify like a hired strumpet. We 
would jostle the atoms of the Universe into new forms 
to make them correspond to a theory — ” and here he 
disappeared into his musing. The gray eyes of the 
judge twinkled shrewdly, and he nodded at me as 
much as to say, “ Something will come out of this 
yet!” 

And directly the old wise man was oracular again — 
“ Even men seemingly sane and healthy, have had their 
imaginings, and believed them in the teeth of their 
own doubts. I know a rare, distinguished man, a soul 
sweet and charming as a woman’s, a courage that takes 
the steel of danger like a Nuinidian lion, one whose 
caressing touch lures forth the soul of art, whose brain 
was nurtured with the high philosophies, who, bred a 
royalist, left thirty titles behind him in the old world 
to become a plain republican in this — and yet this 
choice, accomplished spirit, believe himself, like Socrates 
of old, to be attended by a daemon. Argument does 
not shake his faith. 

“I have questioned him until the slightest minutia 
of his phantasy is in my possession. He has never 
seen the demon ; he comes to him usually at night, al- 
ways secretly, never beholden of men. But he brings 
counsel warning, encouragement. When the ship on 
which he embarked from his native land was wrecked 
and parchments of incalculable worth were lost, M. de 
Rouville was greatly afflicted, more at the grief and de- 
pression of his faithful friends and adherents than for 
his own sake. 

“One morning he astounded his household by show- 
ing them these documents, aged but intact, which the 
daemon had brought him in the night, but these he took 


MALACOSTEON. 


353 


away again, saying he should hide them in the earth 
for safety, and they could never be found. M. de Rou- 
ville has a fancy which he cannot explain since lie 
never saw the daemon that, he comes to him in the 
guise of a wierd old man, stooping, shuffling, mutter- 
ing inarticulate cries at times ; who is always babbling 
of a slip of youth, an infant daemon. This old man 
is very noble in his demeanor, and has a wonderful 
charm of manner. Sometimes he cannot go to de 
Rouville, and then by subtle, airy appointments, de 
Rouville must go to him. As such a time approaches, 
de Rouville becomes sad and abstracted, he begs that 
he shall not be left alone. He struggles against the 
spell, cannot eat, even weeps. Sometimes he dare not 
retire until his room door has been locked, and a faith- 
ful servant sleeps at the threshold to prevent his de- 
parture. But all is useless, in the morning he is gone. 
Once he had a dear friend locked in his room with 
him, on such a night, but as the hour approached 
be begged his . friend to unlock the door, for the 
daemon was waiting for him under the window, and was 
growing impatient. He implored with plaintive elo- 
quence, but finding the friend obdurate, he put on a 
ferocious countenance, rushed upon him like a tiger 
and did him a fearful injury. His frantic search failing 
to find the key, he endeavored to burst the door, and 
at last, crying, “ I come ! ” tore up the window and 
threw himself into the night. Now what is all this but 

diseased imagination ” 

The lawyer was nodding as if in affirmation, but 
with me the long past was rushing in like a tidal wave 
that mines and wastes the embattled earth and floods to 
the highest peak. Old Tom was before me with all his 
gracious presence his exquisite love embraced me, 
he was crying out upon the great storms, and he 
23 


354 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


was bidding me adieu and hastening at the behest 
of this very master that this cynical old man was 
prating of, to this other cynical old man, who was 
beating time with his wrinkled, bald, old head and 
smiling. 

“ Liars ! ” I shrieked, towering upon them. “ It was 
no diseased imagination ! I knew this old man, this 
daemon ! you call him — he was my father ! He was of 
as warm flesh and blood as any human — not a thing 
of leather like you, ye bats of life’s twilight, whose 
hearts are whipped round like a mill-wheel in a cold, 
black stream! Where is that old man ? That wor- 
shipful presence — that weaiy wanderer ! Give him to 
me this night!” And I fell forward foaming and curs- 
ing, and in a moment the world went out as if puffed 
into tke dark, by the weary titan who must slumber at 
length. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

THE ASSASSINATION. 

The long delayed fever was upon me. I raved 
through weary weeks, while the tremendous winter was 
consuming with fog and rain and tempest. The grind- 
ing of huge ice floes, the hoarse bellowing of the sea, the 
shattering blasts that rocked the fearful dreams of men 
in hall and hovel, and all -compelling, drove the murky 
dragon of the deep to wallow in the ancient ooze, from 
which he tossed in rage the bones of long forgotten 
wrecks, — all the mad clamor- of the elements, passed un- 
heeded over me. Sometimes bursting with maimed 
senses through the glosses of delirium, I saw the two 
stately men bending over me with the solicitude of 


4 

THE ASSASSINATION. 355 

women and I madly shouted at them as if they were 
on headlands, and I in the swooning trough of the sea. 
“ Rare sport to your unrelenting hearts ! Here I go 
round and round ! ” 

Once lifting my head from the long cycle of the 
stream, I saw the hideous face of the miser sweeping 
before me, and I made ineffectual struggles, with out- 
stretched arrps to reach him. But ever he shrunk be- 
fore me down the wave, and ever I drove upon him, 
until, as if the seething element shrunk into its caul- 
dron, I lay stranded once more in my bed. A drowsy 
brace of candles dreamed a sort of twilight into the 
room. A dim fire smouldered in the chimney. Some 
one by the bedside was nodding drearily. The tall 
clock in the corner marked a quarter of two. I turned 
in my bed and examined the sl-eeper, and, at length, by 
powerful concentration, I made him out to be Mr. 
Creep. His thin little face was making such a meek 
pantomime of slumber as it swayed to and fro ! A 
quip of mirth, too feeble for a smile, crawled like a 
young fly over my lips. I put up my hand as if to feel 
of it. What a sharp perk there was to my mouth ! my 
nose was drawn out like a psalm tune ! I chuckled 
audibly at the pinched extravagance of my features, 
and wondered who I was. 

Mr. Creep stirred, opened his watery, blue eyes, and 
stole softly to my bedside. 1 felt it would be embar- 
rassing to him to find a stranger in his bed, so I closed 
my eyes, believing I should not then be there. Appar- 
ently I was not, for he turned away, looked at the clock, 
compared it with his watch, poured himself out a glass 
of wine, but .fell to nodding and slipped down into his 
chair before he drank it. I heard a stealthy step, and 
Jesse Schanck came out of the shadows, and poured 
something from a small vial into the wine. He then 


356 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


coughed and slipped behind the bed. Mr. Creep aroused 
himself and came back to the bed, but did not see me. 
He was listening. Apparently he satisfied himself. 
He then drank his wine. In a short time he nodded so 
hard he fell forward upon the table and slept pro- 
foundly. Jesse Schanck came out again. I wondered 
if he would see me. What a rare penetration he had ! 
for he came to the bed and peered down into my face. 
I motioned for him to come nearer. He got one of the 
candles and held it close to my face examining me with 
much satisfaction. 

“ Can you tell me who I am ? ” I whispered. 

“ You are Fibber-te-gibbert,” says he, “ you were 
blown in here by the wind.” 

The idea pleased me mightily and I saw he was en- 
chanted too, for a smile came over him like sunrise in 
the ruined hills of Syria. 

u Do you know who I am ? ” he growled pleasantly. 

“ I am not sure — I am not sure of anything, being a 
phantom.” 

“ Well, you mustn’t stay too long. You’re keeping 
yon poor man out of his bed. When the window is 
open you must flit.” 

“ But he hasn’t seen me ! ” I whispered. 

“ No : but I know a trick that can make him. He 
will think himself delirious. Drink this ! ” and he 
whipped a bottle of wine from under his cloak, and had 
poured a glass in a moment. 

“ Is it what you poisoned David Ruland with ? ” 

“ No, Fibber-te-gibbert 1 these are prism drops, they 
will stain you through like a cherry. Fie will see an 
enchanted prince on his bed, and while he flattens 
against his eyes for wonder, and nods and wreathes in 
withered courtesies, do you quip and quirk, and gird 
him sharply with your airy tongue. Ha ! ha ! ” 


THE ASSASSINATION. 


357 


“ Ha ! lia ! ” I laughed thinly. He raised my head, 
and I seemed to feel the wine emptying itself thrill- 
ingly in space. In a minute I began to warm. “ Am 
I like a cherry now ? Suppose he shouldn’t awaken ? 
Did you give him hot drops too ? ” 

u No, no, Fibber-te-gibbert ! I only gave him dream- 
seed.” 

“ Give me dream-seed, too.” 

He winked at me knowingly, and took the vial 
from his pocket. He tied a string to it, and cut a 
small hole in the pillow, and dropped it in. “ You 
fish for it, you know, when you want it. Here’s the 
string. But I wouldn’t take any to-night. I must 
go now. I’m the Sand-Man — other people want 
dreams.” And he vanished. I heard him in the hall, 
or in the air, “ Ha, ha ! ” 

“Ha, ha!” I echoed, seemingly ever so far away. 
Presently I began to sing, and laugh, and shout. The 
heavy sleeper awoke, and sat up dazed. “ Good even- 
ing, Mr. Creep ! ” 

He got up, staggering drearily, and looked at me, 
with eyes all bleared with slumber. And smiled, and 
grinned, and bowed and rubbed his hands, and mut- 
tered salutations. 

“Ha, ha!” I shrieked, “How’s Miss Tongue-tie? 
She who macerated the dictionary, as Cleopatra the 
pearl, and drank it! Ha, ha ! Why don’t you marry 
her, Mr. Creep, Mr. Crab, Mr. Crinkle ! Do little men 
court forever? Did old Jessie get all your money? 
Never trust the Sand-Man, Creep ! ” 

Whether it was the next night or later, I cannot 
tell, I had had such fearful dreams, and I had heard 
the low rumble of so many consultations between the 
doctor and the judge, and their talk about the very 
sad case of one Jude, whom they meant to assist so 


358 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


heartily with both law and physic. I quite wondered 
who the poor fellow was, and I cordially determined 
I would help him too, in some way. I pondered 
about it a good deal. I was so light and airy. I 
felt I might run to the end of the earth in an in- 
stant, and like a live moon-beam, peer into all kinds 
of cracks and crannies where crime was hid. And 
thus it was I grew at length to know that I ought 
to seek out Granville and compel him to enter into 
the league. Fortunate thought — for at that moment 
I heard one of the stately old figures say to the 
other, “ I have reasoned it out — Granville must be in 
the low brown house on Bayard street.” I knew where 
that was, and as soon as the color of the cherry 
faded from me, I meant to go there. 

After a long time I looked up again. The house was 
so silent that I was afraid I was out of it. But no; 
there sat Mr. Creep nodding, nodding. I would wait 
tiil he poured out some wine again and then I would 
sprinkle dream-seed in it. After a long search I found 
the string where it had been tucked so carefully by the 
Sand-Man. When I pulled on it I heard the unwilling 
vial come crawling out of the feathers with a noise that 
would have awakened the dead, if I had not been so 
painfully cautious. At last I had it. I waited a long, 
long time, after I had coughed, and sung, and hallooed, 
but the old man did not awaken. Then it occurred to 
me that being a phantom T, of course, made no noise. 
So, at length, I got out of bed, and poured him a glass 
of wine and put the drops in it. What a queer house 
it was ! The floor rose under me at every step, and the 
ceiling drew up and down. The two candles began to 
dance, and I tripped round and round- smiling at them. 
An enamelled log broke in two, and threw up spark- 
ling galaxies. This made Mr, Creep stir, and so l 


THE ASSASSINATION. 


359 


slipped back into bed, and closed my eyes. He yawned, 
and came stealthily toward me, but joy ! he could not 
see me, the color was gone. 1 gave a great soundless 
laugh when I peeped out and saw him standing still, 
regarding the wine. He took it up slowly and held it a 
little way off — then he smelled it critically and seemed 
assured, giving a little, sorrowful smile before he drank 
it, which seemed to say, “ Memory is going with my 
other poor wits. I poured this out an hour ago, and 
then forgot it.” He paced about the floor with a gen- 
tle patter, like old rain falling, but his dim eyes began 
to cover their frosty fires, and he stumbled once or 
twice, and then sat down in an old Spanish leathern 
chair, in the corner, and slept profoundly. 

I was out of bed in an instant. The body’s long 
habit made me feel there was something I needed, but 
what it was I could not very well determine. Oh ! it 
was clothing ! I searched about the room and peered 
into a closet. My haste was feverish and I was getting 
into a frenzy. I was pleased to think I might get into 
garments as I had seen the wind do, ballooning out the 
shrunk 'clothes which hung on the line and capering 
madly. I tricked myself out speedily, even to shoes 
and hat, and found my strength growing as my excite- 
ment increased. As I slipped down the stairs I heard 
the clock in the hall strike one. 

I was out under the stars, running — it seemed to me 
I llew like the winds, but the streets ran too, stretch- 
ing away and away. The slight wind stirring scam- 
pered before me like a spaniel of storm, and made play- 
ful rushes upon me at the street corners, blousing my 
hair about my keen eyes, and twisting my garments 
upon my meagre limbs. At such times too, I would 
catch the smothered laugh of the sea, and note all the 
stars in the sky bending and leering, and hurrying after 


860 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


me like a storm of glittering flies. I would throw out 
my arms and flash lightnings from them, I thought, in 
many a slumberous window, and believe it came back 
to me with the intelligence of sleeping men. 

I came upon a tall shadow, and threw myself upon 
it with a radiance — caroling right to the centre with a 
song. The shadow put on mortality and shrieked, re- 
treating before me with a bony stride. I caught it 
again in front of a hostel where a late lantern was 
creaking on its gibbet, and saw by the dim, yellow 
beams that, I had siezed upon a miser. A lean parch- 
ment of man, whose devilish features wrinkled into 
dollar symbols whenever his harsh soul trode in him as 
in a buskin. Whose remorseless eyes, like a brace of 
constables made inventories upon debtors. Whose 
pursed lips held no pearls, but jagged scoffs like the 
Spartan’s angular iron coin. Whose peaked chin was 
thrust ahead of his adventurous thought like an ex- 
plorer’s pike. From his beetling brow his nose hung 
like a vulture ready for the downward plunge upon the 
fallen enemy. His ears were porches where thieves are 
caught ere they force treasury vaults. His hands were 
the hooked claws of griffins, meant for the assorting of 
the metals of the realm long hoarded in caverns under- 
ground. 

He shrank aside and put on hurry as though he 
would avoid me, and yet I felt he was villainously glad. 
The wind blew me along by his side. 

“Have you just died? ” be gasped. 

“ Just died J ” I repeated mechanically. 

“ Did you find the dream-seed ? ” 

“ Found the dream-seed.” 

He gave a high roar like the joy of a tiger and 
stopped short. The wind blew me onward, and when 
I returned in the whistle of a moment, I heard the door 


THE ASSASSINATION. 


861 


bang to, in a monstrous house, and knew he was 
swallowed in. I did not wait but flew lightly along 
and around a corner of the street. I got to the evil 
looking brown house, but the door would not open, 
neither would any window, and 1 could not get through 
the key-hole. I was wild with rage. I ran along, feel- 
ing by the high wall. I found an opening and clam- 
bered through. I was searching the back of the house. 
A door was open. How narrow the hall was, and it 
seemed to have a hill in it. I toiled up and toiled 
down. I lost my way rambling about, over the queer 
mounds, and suddenly found myself in another room, 
and sliding down, down. There was a light to be seen, 
and I crawled to it through a low damp tunnel, emerg- 
ing at last in a capacious underground vault, strewn with 
a variety of mouldering tackle of ships, chests, and gar- 
ments covered with black spores of mildew. 

A hunch-back monster clothed in buckskin was en- 
gaged by the light of a dark-lantern, in smoothing over 
the recently upturned earth and packing it hard. But 
sometimes he threw down his spade and jumped awk- 
wardly about in a horrible phrensy of delight. He 
laughed under his breath a hideous, “ Ho ! Ho ! ” as if 
he could not wholly contain some monstrous thought. 
Out of a heap of rubbish he selected a bottle of wine 
that seemed to please him. He dug out the cork with 
the blade of a knife and drank a good part of the con- 
tents, smacking his repulsive lips with relish. He now 
examined the more closely the bottles he had discarded, 
holding his lantern near them, digging out a cork now 
and then, smelling the contents, and at last testing the 
liquid which he spat out with great disrelish . “ The 

old one,” he muttered, with a diabolical leer upward, 
“ evidently distilled that from the striped cactus, long 
ago, for some' one he meant to destroy — but to think 


362 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


that — now — ! Ho! Ho ! Ho ! ” And he dragged him- 
self about in hideous pantomime. I was freezing with 
terror, for though I had not been seen, having flitted 
behind one of the stone pillars, I felt that any mo- 
ment the brute might come toward me, and flashes of 
intelligence were shooting through me, so that I fancied 
myself phantom at one moment and dumbly felt my 
own identity the next. I was becoming mortally weak, 
too, and was shivering with cold. Overhead there be- 
gan a trampling, and the utterance of a monologue in 
a high, rasping key came down to us. I heard my 
heart laboring hard. For a moment I knew who I was, 
and icy fears were curdling thick upon me as I wondered 
what I did here. 

“ The old tiger has come back early ! ” snarled the 
hunch-back. “ Shall I go up and strangle him now, and 
be done with it? No, no! They shall murder each 
other ! And why not to-night ! I anx tired of the 
the game ! ” 

He who strode savagely above, in the dark, was 
blaspheming aloud, and laughing like phrensy, and 
uttering prodigious thiiigs. 

“ J ude gone ! ” he cried, “ and David, and Tom 
worse than dead, wandering if alive, without his wits ! 
Oh, Roger, Roger ! come back to me ! Out of the pit of 
the world, jumbled with princes, or tossing drearily on 
unknown seas, or half consenting to the fearful charm 
of death on fields of slaughter ! Hear my strong cry, 
Roger! Roger! I have millions for you! You shall 
buy cosmos with a bauble ! Oh ! for some voice, some 
sound, if from hell, to lead me to my boy ! ” 

The liunch-back in a drunken bravado, struck the 
ceiling three hard blows with his spade, and shouting 
in a .mockery, “ Roger ! Roger ! ■’ fled, reeling into the 
tunnel, and disappeared. With a sound like a rising 


THE ASSASSINATION. 


B6S 


whirlwhind, tlie master of the house tore along the 
floor above and came pell mell into the vault. He de- 
scried me fleeing into the tunnel and came hard upon 
me, in a wild rapture as if it was I who had called him 
in the depths. But the lantern had been left behind 
and the way was tortuous and uneven, and again I had 
become a phantom sweeping like lightning through the 
caverns of the earth, and so, outstripped him in the 
race. Up-stairs I perceived a pale candle-light. The 
door of a room was ajar. Inside I heard voices, and 
coming nearer, I saw the figures of two men, but to my 
eyes and ears seeming and sounding far off, and it 
occurred to me how very ghostly the living must be- 
come to those who are dead. Hollow shells murmur- 
ing and moving to strange electric currents. 

As I slipped into the room I perceived the floor was 
littered with old yellow parchments, over which the 
drunken ruffian had staggered, treading slime into the 
leaves. His back was to me, but he was gesticulating 
and calling excitedly to his companion, who rising un- 
steadily threw down a table cumbered with papers and 
bottles, from which rose the smell of strong wine, and 
stooping he caught up the candle which had fallen, and 
held it aloft and regarded the liunch-back with startled 
eyes. 

“ I tell you we are trapped like thieves in our den ! 
The tiger is on us ! ” shouted the latter. “ Take this 
knife and stab him to the heart, for I am far too drunk 
for slaughter.” 

And he slipped a wicked, long blade into the other’s 
hand, who received it mechanically. At that instant 
his gaze fell upon me, and he gave a low, thrilling cry 
of horror, and dropping the candle, which the hunch- 
back caught up, he clapped his hand to his eyes. I 
fell trembling into the folds of a great cloak that hung 


364 


JPHANTOM DAYS. 


with other garments on the wall, and became at once 
obscure. In that instant I had recognized the tall, 
miserably dissipated, disappointed, criminal man who 
faced me, as Granville. 

“What’s the matter?” shrilled the sailor, looking 
about him. 

“ Did you not see him ? ” gasped Granville, taking 
down his hand, “ he was here but a moment ago, but 
oh ! so wild and strange.” 

“Who,, who?” whispered the other, in a supersti- 
tious awe. 

“ Jude ! ” 

“ He is dead,” cried the sailor. “ I heard Jesse 
Schanck say it but now.” 

“ Then I have seen his ghost ! ” 

There was a noise below, and disordered step on the 
stairs, and in at the door-way sprang Jesse Schanck 
with a curdling cry, making straight at Granville, with 
a furious demeanor. Before he could strangle him in 
his tracks, as he evidently meant to do, the hunch-back 
caught him in his powerful arms, and rousing a strength 
within him that slumbered like a twin evil, he threw the 
miser heavily against the wall till it echoed with a dull 
sound. Then closing in upon him again, he caught 
him from behind, pinioning his arms, and crying to 
Granville, “ Knife him to his heart, the damnable 
villain ! ” 

Jesse Schanck writhed serpent-wise, his eyes astart 
and glaring, his tongue hissing with indistinguishable 
curses, till finding all his efforts useless, he gave a 
bitter, despairing cry, calling upon his lost son, and 
rolling his head as though he would have thrown it 
crashing like a stone from a catapult, into the face of 
his enemy. 

“ Oh my son ! 1113" son ! I have need of you ! ” he 


THE ASSASSINATION. 


365 


cried. “ Kill him ! Kill him ! ” shrilled the hunch- 
back, “ infernal loiterer ! Will you always be too 
late ! ” 

But Granville, all pale and trembling, reaching his 
nervous hands before him, his eye-balls shot with blood, 
his countenance haggard but yet sustained, was gazing 
fascinated upon the vanquished man. He seemed 
struggling to recall something, or to understand, I 
know not what, but methought the hunch-back villain 
knew, for his tone altered, growing persuasive, even 
pleading. 

“ Strike him, good Granville ! we are all alone ! In 
a minute, if I let him go, he will stab you to the heart. 
He’s your fiend of torment ! — the blaster of your rep- 
utation and your life ! He is an old scoundrel God has 
forgotten — send him to hell ! ” 

“I have killed poor Jude!” said Granville, “and I 
have wronged this old man like a robber, and I will kill 
no more ! ” 

“ As you please,” howled, rather than spoke the ruf- 
fian, “it’s all one to me who uses the knife ! ” And he 
let go the miser. 

For a moment the latter did not seem to realize that 
he was free. He wrung his gaunt body as if still in 
the toils, and called, “Roger ! Roger ! ” until his voice 
went out into the night like an evil, wandering wind. 
At the cry, Granville dropped the knife, and staggered 
backward against the wall. His arms were straight 
out, as if beseeching, and his eyes were wistful as a 
man’s in death, and a strange murmur was rising in 
his throat. 

As if rousing from his lair, Jesse Schanck, with one 
bound had seized the fallen weapon and had thrown 
himself upon the defenceless man, striking the blade 
deep into his breast. The red blood leaped out upon 


866 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


him, and Granville tearing open his garments as if he 
invited him a nearer way to his heart, smiled, sadly in 
the assassin’s face, who struck again, when down lie 
sank in a confused heap upon the floor. The murderer 
again raised his hand as if he could not have enough 
of revenge, the rudd}^ drops chasing each other pre- 
cipitately down the steel and falling into his face. 
And it was at that moment the sailor deftly wrested 
the knife from his grasp, and while the satanic old 
man looked on amazed, in a moment he had torn 
from himself the buckskin shirt, and cutting some har- 
ness or other, down fell his hunch-back upon the floor, 
and he stood up a gigantic, hideous villian, smiling 
fiendishly, but calm as in a supreme triumph. 

“ Captain Marlowe ! ” faltered the miserable old 
man, and his thoughts went flying across his blood- 
stained countenance like despairing demons. He began 
to tremble all over, and he fell down by the side of the 
murdered man, quite ghastly, unable to speak, or to 
divest himself of the terror that had clutched his 
savage throat and was shaking him to death. At last 
he looked up, with a sort of agonized appeal, into the 
sailor’s face, and each fixed upon the other a tremendous 
gaze. And then, as if his words were white-hot iron 
that went withering and hissing into Jesse Schanck’s 
soul, he whispered, 

“ It is your son ! ” 


, CHAPTER XXXIX. 

DEATH IN LIFE. 

It was on a day in early spring that I crept about 
the broad piazzas like a shadow that, loosened from 
its moorings, goes clouding here and there, and is 


DEATH IN LIFE. 


367 


islanded in a sea of tender sunshine, the only sad 
spot in the world’s gay morning. Old Mr. Creep 
tottered near at hand, watching me with gentle smiles, 
showing his solicitude, but saying never a word. A 
daffodil was blooming in the side of the garden hedge, 
and it lured me like gold does the miser. My old 
friend offered his whole body in a servile gesture 
of love, as if he would that moment go pluck it for 
me, but I forbade him with a sign — it seemed an unholy 
thing to do, for I felt there was something human in the 
flower, and it warmed me faintly to know that it dared 
to smile and be courageously beautiful, leaning out of 
its cavern of winter and tilted against the awful deep 
of the sky. 

Just then a rudely handsome woman, strong and 
elastic in her movement, came sweeping with a flutter 
of coarse garments, from around the house, and seized 
the glowing daffodil, and turned about retreating, 
but at my querulous cry she tossed round on me 
her bold, serious face and her blazing black eyes, 
and disappeared. I sat down confusedly, for 1 had 
recognized the fish-wife, and wondered what she did 
here. Next I heard her voice at an open window up- 
stairs, speaking caressingly, and doubtlessly offering the 
flower. 

Mr. Creep was nocffling uneasily, and murmuring, 

“ Yes, yes ; he saw it, probably, as he lay at 
the window, and sent her for it. But then he is so 
ill ! ” 

“Who is ill?” 

“ Mr. Granville.” 

“ He is dead,” I said, simply. 

The old man made a drepecating gesture, and mut- 
tered, “Yes, yes,” soothingly. 

“His wits are wandering.” I thought, “and so are 


868 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


mine, and so is everything. There is no longer any 
steadfast thing by which I may strengthen my/soul in 
this world.” ( 

I was growing slowly stronger, but not greatly car- 
ing, for when I became cognizant of life about me, and 
found the winter was gone and no tidings of Tom, and 
no letter had come in answer to the impassioned ones I 
had sent to Marie, months before, and knew that 
months must go by before I could seek her, there fell a 
great depression upon me. Starting up, I was at one 
moment for putting a whip to the leisurely back of 
time, at another I was for shrinking into the pall of 
night, and losing myself in silence, for was I not called 
on of fate to become the accuser and Nemesis of Jesse 
Schanck. I, who had found of a verity that he was the 
poisoner of David Ruland, and who had seen him as- 
sassinate his son ! 

And as I lay recovering on my dimly lighted couch 
I would go painfully through all its details up to the 
dreadful stroke, and how I then sprung forward from 
my hiding place as the black pirate and the murderer 
glared in on each other, pulling down the hangings and 
falling forward, unnoticed by either of them so horri- 
bly were they rapt away. And then, how I had sped 
with a low, shuddering cry, through the darksome town 
and on into my room, the first rain-drops of a storm 
pattering fast at my flying feet. The clock was strik- 
ing two, and Mr. Creep was sleeping profoundly in the 
same attitude, as I threw myself excitedly from my 
garments and fell upon the bed. After that there was 
a gap of some days in which I must have been delirious 
again, for I was shouting the madness I had witnessed, 
and was making wild demands on the perplexed old 
men, who regarded me with pain and pity, and pre- 
tended to believe and do a thousand things to soothe 


DEATH IN LIFE. 


369 


me into quiet at last. What I had said I could 
not recall, but I remembered that when I asked 
Judge Brief one day, “If the murderer had been 
caught? ” he answered with uneasy indifference, “ Yes,” 
and glanced up at Dr. Murray, who pursed his lips, 
frowning, and poured out for me a potion, which made 
me dreamy and listless. And afterwards, whenever I 
approached the subject I was turned away like a per- 
sistent child, until I finally ceased to speak of it, and 
waited for my strength to grow upon me. 

But the presence of this black-browed, handsome 
fish-wife piqued me. Surely I was master of my own 
house. I would know the cause of her presence. I 
left Mr. Creep and went into the hall, where I slowly 
ascended the stairs. The elms were tapping at the 
window on the landing, and I looked out, as I paused 
to rest, on the gray sea in that windless morning, 
wallowing and tossing in a pantomine of storm. Ar- 
rived in the library, I rang the bell for Csesar, my faith- 
ful body-servant. 

“ Who is that strange, bold, black-eyed woman, who 
is in the house, and what is she doing here ? I de- 
manded. 

“ It is Madeline,” he said, cringing and smiling, and 
pulling at his iron-grey wool, “ and she is nursing Mar- 
ster Granville.” 

“What!” I cried, spasmodically, the blood rushing 
in on my heart. I got up excitedly and tottered 
rather than ran to Granville's old room, and there, sure 
enough, he lay, bolstered in bed, greenish-pale, and 
hollow-eyed, but living. And his foster-mother, for I 
now understood her allusion of long ago, was flutter- 
ing about him anxious and admiring, and putting the 
daffodil into his hand while she spoke caressingly as to 
a child. He was not answering one word, but was re- 
24 


3T0 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


garding her coldly and without emotion. Breathless I 
slid away, shocked and doubting my senses. 

“You would have it so,” explained the old doctor, 
an hour afterward, as he sat unfolding this mystery to 
me. 

“You have been delirious all along, but Oue night 
you became particularly frantic, crying that Granville 
was lying murdered in the brown house on Bayard St., 
and beseeching that he should be brought away. To 
pacify you we had at length to promise that all should 
be done as you wished. The human mind is a mystic 
and divine thing, and at the brink of death it holds 
settled cummunion with the occult forces that underlie 
all life; and like old Jesse Schanck I am inclined to 
think that a dying man might be consulted as an oracle 
who has the intimate lips of fate tuning at his ears, 
and whose eyes — ” 

“But my good friend, tell me what you did?” 

“ I believed in you — the more so, since I had discov- 
ered your clothing on the floor, — and went myself, with 
some of the servants, before daylight. We found the 
door of the brown house open, the halls full of earth 
— a tunnel had been dug to Jesse Sclianck’s cellar — 
this Granville is an audacious villain ! We found him 
in a room up-stairs lying cold and unconscious from hem- 
orrhage, two deep wounds in his chest, made by a sea- 
man’s knife. Evidently his companion in wickedness, 
ascertained to be a deformed sailor, had committed the 
atrocious deed, and robbing him of what he had robbed 
the miser, had fled incontinently into the night. We 
brought him here before dawn, and he yet lives, for some 
purpose, God knows what ! but he has never spoken 
all these weeks.” 

“And Jesse Schanck? ” I asked, after a full three 
minutes silence. 


DEATH IN LIEE. 


3T1 


“ Is possibly insane ; for though no one has held any 
conversation with him since that time, it is the general 
impression that the loss of his secret hoards and valua- 
ble papers, which had been abstracted through the under- 
ground way, has unhinged his intellect. For he hides 
himself by day, but wanders muttering all night, and 
has been frequently seen standing in the room where 
Granville was found, holding up a lighted candle and 
gazing with a terrible face upon the floor. Judge Brief 
has laboriously examined the great mass of parchment 
discovered there, where the thieves had carried it for 
scrutiny, but without avail, so far as your interests are 
concerned. The shutters of the house have alt been 
thrown open to let in the sun and air, but the earth re- 
mains in the hall, as at first, while the investigation is 
quietly developing.” 

“ Can not Granville speak ?” 

“ I am convinced he could if he would, but he will 
answer no questions and volunteers no information. 
We cannot learn from him who stabbed him, nor what 
became of the treasures he probably unearthed. He 
betrays no emotion, but evidently is searching himself 
profoundly, and living by the sheer force of will. An- 
other in his situation would have perished of the sep- 
ticaemia that poisoned him — at best he can not live 
long. His nurse, Madeline, has a rare faculty for her 
occupation, and must have known her patient long ago, 
for she constantly calls him by endearing diminutives, 
and alludes to past times, without evoking any re- 
sponse. He will not, so far as known, communicate 
with her, nor will she give us any information. The 
morning he was brought here, she came, heaven knows 
whence, craving the office she now fills. Judge Brief 
thinks she is carrying on some private detective policy 
of her own, as a haggard fisherman slips to her now 


872 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


and then in the orchard, where they hold a hasty ren- 
dezvous, and she gives him instructions, and hears his 
report.” 

44 Let him stay in my house as long as he can,” I said, 
with a shudder, 44 but as for me, I cannot. I must go 
away.” 

44 It will be the best thing,” assented the doctor, sim- 
ply and kindly. 44 Come home with me.” 

“Before you go,” urged the judge, who had entered 
the* library as I spoke, 44 1 wish you to visit Granville’s 
room, he is evidently waiting for some one, and it may 
be you.” 

“But now, Job,” called Dr. Murray to Mr. Creep, 
“ Jude must lie down, and hear no more conversation 
to-day.” 

When I went into Granville’s room, a week after- 
ward, his spirit peered out of him from some nook, 
and he knew I was there, but his cold eyes never 
turned toward me. His nurse, as if I affected him 
evilly, gave me an almost rude stare, and came between 
us, saying curtly, 44 He must not be disturbed ! ” 

How like a dead man he looked, except for the deep 
fascination of his eyes. His chest scarcely heaving, his 
hands long and waxen, his sharpened face unvisited by 
blood, and of an inhuman. pallor. So, I thought, must 
a wicked soul sit in its dim flesh in the tomb, and pore 
upon its sins, the long punishment but just begun. And 
yet he lived, and as one who sits upon the last promon- 
tory, peaked against the sky, and cannot hear the sea, 
so far below, so, all about him spread a desolation vast 
and eternal, and the vulture was tearing him while he 
still lived. Without speaking, I turned and walked 
away. 

44 Was it not his father he desired ? ” I meditated, as 
I paced slowly toward the library. Should it be, it was 


DEATH IN LIEE. 373 

my duty to bring about tlieir meeting, and I turned 
heavily back again. 

As I paused in his doorway, I saw his hand fall down 
and, as if it had been a creature apart from him, begin 
to grope slowly under his pillow, while so fixed were 
his eyes, no feature of his body seemed cognizant of its 
presence. 

The nurse had gone out of his room. I stepped be- 
fore him, saying, “ Is it your father you wish to see ? I 
will send secretly for him, and you shall be left alone.” 

The greenish pallor of his face deepened, but his eyes 
never turned nor answered, nor did a breath escape 
him. His hand erected itself slowly, and held some 
object between us, and I thought I heard a sigh, but I 
might have been mistaken, so many ghosts of sound 
came to me in the silence. I stepped nearer to him to 
repeat my words, when, heavens ! my eyes fell upon a 
little painting on ivory that he held, and I flamed hot 
as if struck by a bolt from the sky. It was a picture 
of Marie, traced by his pencil and limned as if she 
were mirrored. But in his hand ! warming the glacier 
of his eye ! I could have killed him ! 

“ You give that to me, Roger Schanck ! ” I exclaimed, 
in a tone that shivered through me frightfully. He 
made no resistance, only his eyes became lustreless, his 
hand fell, and for a moment I thought he was dead. 

Pity became his advocate in my soul. I had done a 
cowardly thing ; despoiled the dying. Was there any 
law to prevent a secret, hopeless passion ! Could she, 
through her image, suffer taint from his thought, or her 
virginal bloom wither at his touch ! If I withdrew it 
thus rudely, or at all, was I not urging his death war- 
rant ! But if I gave it back to him, was I not a false 
knight, execrable to myself, and unworthy of her ! 

I laid it again upon his hand. “ You cannot have it 


374 


PHANTOM BAYS. 


Roger ! ” I said, gently, “ You must give it to me. She 
loves me, and I shall one day win her wholly.” 

I took it up. He had acquiesced, in some subtle 
way, his aura acting on mine that only a spirit could 
explain. But when I looked at him, I felt humbled in 
spite of my righteous anger, so well controlled. This 
man was being pulled into the vortex while he yet 
clung to his rim of rock and longed and waited — for 
what ? Not for his father — that I knew, and ambition 
was no longer a spur to his flagging heart. 

My interests had faded out of him utterly. He was 
dying — what kept him on the rack so long ? I shud- 
dered to think. 

And as if lie painted venom into the picture, I felt 
the blood creeping coldly from my hand. I longed to 
throw the medallion into the fire, but instead, I laid it 
on his white coverlid, and withdrew. 

What matters it? To keep the picture of the love- 
liest against her will, or clandestinely, is to rob it of its 
grace and make it valueless even to a lawless mind. 

In five minutes there was a knock at my door, and 
Madeline entered brusquely and laid the painting on 
my knee. “ He will have none of it ! ” she said, and 
went out with a step that jarred the floor. 

I threw the picture into the. fire. 


CHAPTER XL, 

THE SECRET OF THE GRAVE. 

,» 

In the mountains where I had gone, health came 
to me only to flame up in longing, and, in despite 
of the letters I had received from my old friends 
in Worcester, I determined to return, settle my 


THE SECRET OF THE GRAVE. 


375 


affairs — or leave them, rather, in the hands of Judge 
Brief, and sail at once for France and Marie. The 
dusky face of Csesar showed a ray of gladness, 
when I communicated my intention of leaving on the 
following morning, and long before sunrise I heard him 
making the necessary preparations, and looking out of 
my window as I dressed, I found the horses saddled and 
impatient to be gone. 

The second day afterward we turned out of our 
course, and rode along the Lenna river to its mouth. I 
realized how dreadful had been the storm of the winter 
before, when I saw how the sea had eaten into the 
coast, and found the lonely fisher’s hut had been swept 
bodily away, and carried, a black mouthful into the 
writhing jaws of the main. Riding back some dis- 
tance, we passed over the huge lumbering bridge which, 
on swaying piles, spanned the river, and from the 
beaten track we turned into a gigantic forest through 
which our path lay for miles. 

As we crept about the boles of mighty trees, a solemn 
litany sounding over us, ever and anon upon the swell- 
ing notes of the wind would come the deeper bass of 
the sea. A multitude of old roads intersected ours, or 
stole away from it into deeper solitudes, as if reverent 
travelers had gone apart to mediate in cool fastnesses 
an age hence, and a feeling that many Merlins lay im- 
mured about me, slumbering at the feet of elfin women, 
possessed me with a fantastic awe. in some places the 
winds, in a century of autumns, had drifted the brown 
leaves until the earth was lost, and we aimlessly 
searched on all sides, until we struck into some forgot- 
ten road again. 

It was after one of these episodes that, I found we 
were leaving the main forest and were coming out upon 
a sparsely wooded plain. Before us men were moving 


376 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


on horse-back, and some were massing themselves under 
a clump of shrub oaks. 

Our horses pricked up their ears and showed great 
animation. Riding nearer, I was startled at finding 
once more, the wild, neglected cemetery of my long ago 
wanderings, and this time, in the glare of a summer 
afternoon. Scarcely realizing, I perceived Dr. Murray, 
and Judge Brief, the sheriff Che veiling, and others 
that I knew. In their midst, perfectly serene, coldly 
sarcastic, and yet a prisoner, I was astonished in recog- 
nizing a shrewd, gray-visaged, worldly face — that of the 
black-eyed stranger in the stage-coach, from which Tom 
had leaped with me in his arms so long, long ago — the 
man whom I had detected as, a conspirator in M. de 
Rouville’s house ! 

The two friendly old men were gazing at me in 
wonder, and I felt, in disapprobation, at my coming, 
but they signed to me to approach, and I rode up to them 
without speaking, for all faces but the Frenchman’s, 
seemed wrought up to a great tension, and I knew 
some important affair that engaged them wholly, pre- 
cluded any words. 

Slowly writhing between two officers, was the hus- 
band of the nurse, Madeline, and under his meagre vis- 
age, the blood ran coldly, and the stupor of fear was in 
his eyes, like in that of an ox led to slaughter. “ It is 
all a mistake, Captains, your honors ! ” he muttered in- 
coherently from time to time. “ I have been dead a 
long while.” 

Two laborers began to dig up an old grave, — the one 
opened by Jesse Schanck, and filled by me, many 
months before. The haunted face of the fisher worked 
convulsively. “ You will find me there ! ” he shrieked 
feebly, and attempted to draw back. 


THE SECRET OE THE GRAVE. B77 

“ What in heaven’s name are you seeking?” I de- 
manded of the doctor and the judge. 

“Proofs, proofs ! ” cried the latter sententiously. 

The laborers struck on the buried casket. “ Hold ! ” 
I shouted, “ it is not there, but I can set you aright ! ” 

“ What is not there? ” eagerly demanded both of my 
elders. 

“ Tell me the meaning of this drama, and I will — ” 

Before I could finish my sentence, the fisher looked 
upon me with a despairing cry, and sank down sense- 
less between his captors. The doctor stayed to give 
some necessary directions to these, while the judge took 
me apart, and hurriedly summed up the details neces- 
sary to make me understand the situation and their 
search. 

A detective had hidden himself in the orchard at the 
spot where Madeline had been observed to hold her 
fugitive interviews with her husband, and had heard 
her upbraiding him for his craven fear of Captain Mar- 
lowe, the pirate, who, he said, had come back from for- 
eign parts and was seeking him. “ Murder me he 
will ! ” moaned the man. “ What nonsense ! ” she 
urged, “ don’t he think you dead and buried ! Haven’t 
you confessed to me that you are living under another 
name, while all your old companions believe you are 
buried in Queen’s Cove Cemetery? Even Jesse 
Schanck would pass you by without a look ! ” 

“ He will murder me, he will murder me ! ” broke in 
the fisher, wringing his hands. “I must go away! I 
must hide myself!” “Hush!” she cried sternly, 
“ How dare you talk of going away, when he needs 
you to the uttermost! You must hang about that 
house day and night, and fly here with the news if she 
comes at any hour, for see her he must before he dies ! ” 
And she began to choke and sob, and pressing a basket 


878 


PHANTOM HAYS. 


of provisions into the fisherman’s hands, she ran back 
to her charge. 

A strange chase the wild fellow gave the detective, 
sometimes hanging about the eaves of M. de Rouville’s 
mansion, peering in at the decrepit old servants, and 
sometimes skurrying at night fall, or in moonlight, to 
this lonely cemetery in Queen’s Cove, and anon steal- 
ing half-famished, to the trysting place in the orchard, 
accepting food from his wife, and hastening away. One 
night he slunk, like a hound, up Bayard street, the de- 
tective following noiselessly upon his track. A light 
glared dully from the open upper windows in the brown 
house, and the fisher climbing the sycamore tree, hung 
out on the gnarled branches, watching that dreadful old 
man who haunts the room where Granville was struck 
down. The miser comes like a somnambulist into the 
room, holding a lighted candle in his hand ; when he 
reaches a certain spot, a horrible phrensy like a light- 
ning stroke, goes in at his face, and he groans aloud. 
He has been seen to do it a hundred times. But this 
time lie came gliding up to the window, his eyes set in 
a hard stare, holding the candle before him, the yellow 
light shining full in the face of the fascinated fisher, 
not three feet away !” “Ah, mate H’*he called out, in 
a harsh, hollow voice, “we drowned them and robbed 
them for naught ! He’s dead ! he’s gone ! ” 

With a shriek like that of a rat caught in a trap, the 
other fell nerveless from the tree, and laid upon the 
ground, while a hollow, despairing cry, thrilled from the 
window into the night. And anon came Jesse Schaiick 
out of the house, still holding the candle before him, 
which scarcely flared in the still night. His eyes were 
fixed on vacancy : he stepped over the prostrate man, 
and glided away. 


THE SECRET OF THE GRAVE. 


379 


“ I put these strange things together, continued the 
judge, “ and I reflected that the one man Captain Mar- 
lowe would desire to be avenged upon, would be David 
Marvel, the mate of the smuggler, who betrayed him 
and his companions. The man was popularly supposed 
to be dead and buried in Queen’s Cove, with many 
nameless ones who were drowned at the wreck of the 
‘Alert’ in 18 — . I could not find anyone who had 
seen him buried, but many’s the poor soul that has 
been snuffed out since then, and much has been for- 
gotten. I rode up here with Dr. Murray, and we found 
the grave marked with Marvel’s name, and we were 
much puzzled, as this was before the miser had com- 
municated from the window with the fisher. But 
that singular episode might have been explained in 
many ways. As that, the somnambulist was speaking to 
some tormenting thought that raised its own spectres, 
and not to the fisher, whom he .doubtless saw not — 
but why should the fisher fall from the tree as if con- 
science-stricken and in bodily fear? And who should 
Jesse -Schanck have imperiled his soul for, but for the 
son he had lost, and yet, whom he had secretly believed 
living, all these years ! But why does he now say 
that, all his enormous crimes have been in vain, and 
that he, (certainly meaning his son), is dead and gone ? 
Why does he haunt this room ? Some one was assas- 
sinated here. It was Granville. Who is Granville ? 
Does anyone know his origin ? Who is most de- 
voted to him in his long, mortal illness? The wife of 
a sailor. When Jesse Schanck’s son was spirited away 
by the emissaries of the pirate, with whom would he be 
more likely hidden than with low, sea-faring folk? 
Who was Granville’s servant, forward in advancing his 
plots against his enemy, the miserly banker ? Who, but 
Captain Marlowe, himself ? He was ever a man of dev- 


380 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


ilish ingenuity, and Lis diabolical spirit would Lave de- 
lighted in pitting son against father.” 

“My God,” I interrupted, “had you but turned your 
subtle analysis on me, what might you not have discov- 
ered ! Granville is Roger Schanck, and this I have 
known for dreadful months, but who am I ? ” 

The large, wrinkled, serious face of the judge, winced 
at my words, and he regarded me with disapproval, as 
if I had captured by intuition, which is illogical, that, 
which he had laboriously hunted down through pure 
intellect. 

“ Who is that sinister man with Dr. Murray and the 
sheriff? ” 

“It is Bousset, once the attorney for de Rouville, 
but lately the agent for Jesse Schanck — ” he replied, 
in a halting reserved tone. Dr. Murray came up, 
and put his thin, cool hand in mine, while he gave 
me a cordial welcome, and asked if the judge had 
explained the cause of their presence in Queen’s Cove 
Cemetery. 

“ Jude can undoubtedly guess at it,” sniffed the lat- 
ter. 

The deep, brown eyes of the old pl^sician took in 
the irritation of the lawyer, and a question elicited its 
cause, at which he fell into a reverie, occasionally re- 
garding me as though he sought to incorporate my 
personality with some subtle theory, and I am sure he 
did not hear the judge telling me of the arrest of the 
fisher, who, in abject terror, one moment denied all 
complicity with the wrecking of the “ Alert,” of which 
Jesse Schanck was now openly accused, and at another 
asserting that though he had been David Marlowe, he 
had now been long dead. 

“We are upon a clue,” continued Judge Brief, 


THE SECRET OF THE GRAVE. 


381 


“ which may end in that grave, or may rise out of it as 
a positive proof.” 

“ Then dig no further, for you are at fault. In two 
minutes I will put you at the right spot.” And I 
drew out my memorandum book, and taking my 
notes as a guide, I paced off the proper distance, and 
bidding the workmen dig here, they unearthed the 
spade and pick of the fisher, who in a sudden phrensy, 
broke from the officers, and threw himself at my feet, 
imploring that his life should be saved and he would 
tell all. 

“ I came here late at night,” said he, “ with Captain 
Schanck to help him bury a chest of old deeds and 
other documents, — that dreadful night when these 
were all drowned — Lord ! help all poor wretches ! 
' — It was just before daylight — he struck me with 
the pick as I stooped down into the hole. We had 
unearthed and emptied a coffin, and that we had 
put over the chest — the lid was off — he tumbled me 
into it with my lantern and clapped the lid on. He 
threw some dirt on me hastily,- and he hurried away. 
I had not lost my senses, and I soon crept out of the 
grave he had intended for me. I hid myself, not 
daring to be seen of anybody, but when I found a 
drowned man lying in the cove two days afterwards, I 
took his body and put it in my place to deceive Captain 
Schanck, if he ever came to look. And for fear of the 
pirates I got myself tombstones and set them over 
the spot. I often came here to watch, and sometimes 
I saw Captain Schanck walking over the graves. I 
feared he would dig me up and find it was not me 
when he came to get the chest of gold, so I moved the 
tombstones to this other place. I have been guarding 
the chest for the young master here, for I was by when 
he was washed ashore in the arms of his father, and it 


382 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


was me who gave him to the lady in Worcester, who 
raised him. And I saw his father drink the poisoned 
wine which Captain Sehanck sent him when he was ill 
on ship-board once. He was dazed after that, and when 
Captain Schanck struck him as he was struggling to 
his feet, the night of the wreck, he was so crazed by it 
all, and his supposed loss of his child that, he rushed 
right back in the surge and was drowned before our 
eyes. It was him I found in Queen’s Cove, and put in 
my grave — but I saw-him walking about afterward with 
young master here ! ” 

And he began to groan and tremble, and again be- 
came incoherent. 

First, a broken casket, made of oak, was lifted from 
the grave. There was a thin, rusted chain, holding a 
medal, twisted about the neck of him who lay within, 
whose mortality was wasted even beyond the pity of 
living men. Something dimly familiar attracted the 
attention of Bousset, who dismounted and examined 
it. 

“ It is,” said he, with a cool sneer, “ the medal his 
Excellency gave to old Eugene Yalere, for rescuing his 
wife from the mob in Paris, the last night of the reign 
of terror. And years after, when Madame became a 
mother and died at dawn, old Eugene became self-con- 
stituted guardian of the child — a sort of dry nurse. 
He was cousin to his Excellency, and resembled him 
much. By St. Laurient, he has had a long nap, and 
should be up and about the child’s interests ! ” and he 
poked with his long foot 'at the heavy sleeper. 

Next, a heavy cedar chest was unearthed, and lifted 
out by strong arms. All crowded about it in the ex- 
pectancy of seeing untold wealth displayed: and in 
their eagerness the .officers forgot their prisoner, who 
dashed away in a skurry of haste, like a hare before the 


THE SECRET OE THE GRAVE. 888 

hounds, and disappearing in the underbrush and down 
the rocks, threw himself into a boat, and put out to 
sea, unmindful of the bullets singing over his head, 
from the big pistgls of the sheriff. The judge beat the 
air in anger, while Bousset laughed a thin high note, 
exclaiming, “ Yon frenzied fool will do some mischief 
yet. He’s ripe for danger.” 

At the blow of the pick the lid of the chest flew up, 
and to the disappointment of any sordid sense, it con- 
tained, not gold, but the wardrobe of an infant — dainty 
robes, laces yellow with age, ribbons, and quaint finery 
quite marvelous to the eyes. 

Perfect for a moment — but at a touch the fairy fabric 
was dissolved to dust, and fell lightly without a sound 
into a little mouldering heap. The doctor knelt down 
and groped into this, bringing up a necklace of me- 
diaeval coins like those I had seen Jesse Schanck put 
into Granville’s hands. He groped again, and held up 
a casket, which being opened, contained two exquisite 
paintings on ivory, one of a little infant, and the other 
the entrancing face of her whose portrait had so often 
haunted me in my youth. 

“ My God,” murmured the judge, “ it is the face of 
Adelia Beaumont ! ” and unconsciously he turned his 
eyes upon those of Dr. Murray, and something high and 
glorious went through the faces of those old men, like 
light and music from the long ago. 

“We were gods once, Murray,” whispered the law- 
yer, “ though the heavens closed on us.” 

I cannot impart to you the caressing fondness there 
was in the touch of Dr. Murray’s hand, as we rode 
homeward, when, turning frequently toward me, he 
talked of his youth — an unwonted subject for him. 
Judge Brief called him to his side, and riding in ad- 
vance, they fell into a close and earnest conversation. 


884 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


At a word, and seemingly with the consent of the 
sheriff, Bousset rode up to my side. Time had dealt 
coldly with the man, impulse had deadened within him 
to a system quite apart from its fervid ^origin, and only 
that his eyes were yet piercing and black, I could not 
have known him again. His locks had paled to a green- 
ish gray, and his short beard was white, but his eye- 
brows were of jet, and as he talked to me, a sort of 
hurried urgency that replaced his former rapid elo- 
quence, recalled the conspirator to me. 

“ Time is short, Mr. Ruland,” he began, “ and at my 
age tragedy or comedy needs but one act for its denoue- 
ment. But for the lax discipline of mind in your 
former tutor, who was commissioned to educate you to 
your best interests, you would have been a lord in Lor- 
raine to day, instead of living in a comic despair under 
the blind leadership of these driveling old men.” 

“ They are good men,” I responded curtly. 

“Bah! goodness is the dullness of the human mind. 
But let us not wander. I cannot now give you a prince- 
dom, but for a price I can put you in possession of your 
family secrets, and eas„e you of all the poisonous doubts 
that corrode in your soul. Not a word ! Hear me 
through. I have not put my head in the noose, except 
for the bait. I ask free release, and ” 

“ Oblige me by falling back with the sheriff,” I said 
turning sternly upon him; “I desire no conference 
with you.” 

He gave a bitter sneer. “ You do not know what 
you want, but T do. To-morrow will be too late. Af- 
ter to-day I shall.be as dumb as Granville.” 

Seeing me start, for I had forborne asking after 
Granville, he added, “ Yes, he is living 3'et, though 
what he is waiting for in his condition, would puzzle 
the fates. Trifling fool ! he might have made the for- 


SOMNAMBULISM. 


885 


tunes of us all, but be was forever wandering into new 
fields. They found the letter unopened that I had 
written him ! may the fiends torment him ! They think 
they have a clue from these ! Bah ! they will only come 
twisting back again into the old slough ! The most ab- 
ject fool in the universe has the clues thick about him 
to the most tremendous issues, but skipping in his mot- 
ley, he goes from mesh to mesh, and never espies the 
cords between. But I have spied one. I have it in my 
hand. I can lead you as Virgil did Dante, out of your 
pit into the cool, strong uplands of the day. I know 
your father. I was present at the marriage of your 
mother. I waited in the ante-room when you were ” 

“ Sheriff,” cried a stern voice, “ take your prisoner 
and gallop with him to the jail. What means this 
breach of faith ! ” 

The sheriff came hastily up, very red of face, and 
gruffly seized Bousset’s bridle-rein. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

SOMNAMBULISM. 

Intoxicated with the strange, and sometimes dar- 
ing thoughts, which were in my brain, I be-held lit- 
tle of my familiar city as we rode three abreast from 
the sea -avenue into the wide street which skirted 
my home. The faithful servants were bowing and 
courtesying, and smiling broad welcomes, to which 
I replied abstractedly, remembering only to beseech my 
old friends to remain with me, and dismounting, we 
climbed to the library and awaited the summons to 
supper. 

The faces of the two men shed a sort of radiance as 

25 


886 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


they murmured close to each other, and they followed 
my uneasy motions with a show of satisfaction that 
annoyed me. I could’not keep still, excited with the 
discovery in Queen’s Cove, and fretted by the known 
presence of Roger Schanck in my house, feeling at one 
in nnent that I was on the verge of some important 
disclosure, at another fearing the vanity of it all, and 
again impressed that this weird, silent man was menac- 
ing my hopes of happiness in his grim solitude. I got 
up, and went over to the portrait of that marvelous 
Adelia Beaumont, and standing rapt before it, wondered 
— with fear at his cold denial in my heart ! if I was 
her child. A mighty longing bore me to her as on a 
wave from heaven, and methought she smiled and came 
mysteriously toward me, but recoiled when I remem- 
bered how I had seen my foster-mother once break into 
a nervous weeping at seeing Tom standing dubious and 
wistful before this same painting, rubbing his confused 
brow and sighing softly, and tearing himself with diffi- 
culty away. Could it be that she suspected her beautiful 
sister had been his wife and shuddered at it ! It gave me 
a shock I could not understand, and 1 was humiliated 
at my own emotions. I would know the truth at any 
price, and I determined to acquiesce in any bargain the 
infamous Bousset might name. And suddenly, as if 
Dr. Murray had divined my intention, and Judge Brief 
had reasoned it out, the} 7 called me to them and begged 
that I would not hold any conversation with the French- 
man at which they were not present. To this I ab- 
sently agreed, and being called to supper, we all de- 
scended to the dining-room. 

On the stairs we met Madeline ascending with a tray 
of dainty food for her patient. She regarded me with 
supreme defiance and did not return the distant saluta- 
tion, which I felt impelled, as host, to give her. There 


SOMNAMBULISM. 


38T 


was something superb about the coarse animalism of 
this woman, which blazed from her black eyes and 
ruddy face, and gave character to her movements, and 
Dr. Murray summed it up in a phrase, when he said, 
“ Her devotion to Granville is her apotheosis.” 

When we were once more in the library, wearied 
with an interminable discussion between Dr. Murray 
and the lawyer, as to the adequacy of any proofs of 
felony against Jesse Schanck by which the law could 
hold him, the judge weaving a very ingenious argu- 
ment for the state, and the physician combating it from 
resources of medical jurisprudence, I threw myself 
wearily into the big Spanish leathern chair and fell in- 
to a light slumber. 

Like a man drowning in a shallow stream, swooning 
into the infinite, and yet seeing the stars above him, 
and the wooded margin in which the night birds sing, 
I felt the lamp-light on my eyes, and heard the lawj^er 
saying, “ The waves in the big storms last winter, 
helped by the earthquake shocks, loosened the wreck 
of the old clipper and drove it nearer the shore. The 
preparations for scuttling the ship have been plainly 
discovered — .” Anon the physician was musing aloud 
“ It was the distilled juice of that spotted cactus from 
the Indian Seas, which dissolved the bones of poor 
David Ruland — ” “ The detective found the coin in 

Granville’s purse, and the diamond brooch to belong to 
the Lorraine family,” the judge was whispering. 

I would forget myself a little, becoming more and 
more drowsy, but with effort I would regain my facul- 
ties only to find my guests ever murmuring and ab- 
sorbed in each others views. “ He is certainly Adelia’s 
child,” one of them was saying, “the clothing he wore 
when first Mrs. Ruland received him from the breakers 
and which she preserved, is the counterpart of that we 


388 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


saw to-day.” “ The coins found in the chest are dupli- 
cate of old family pieces — ” “ The paintings on ivory 

— ” “ By the way, Darnour pretended to connive 
with Bousset when he proposed the conspiracy, for the 
purpose of securing the familiar who haunted his pa- 
tient.” 

“Do you think Granville can survive much 
longer ? ” 

“ He will not be alive to-morrow night.” 

At this I sat bolt upright and looked about me. 
Neither of the two men regarded me. They were 
leaning toward each other, quite oblivious of my 
presence. 

“ It was the most complete marplot from its first 
inception,” asserted the judge. “ First, there is evi- 
dence that Jesse Schanck would have had Jude kid- 
napped on that very night, in Rondaine, but for the 
timely interposition of Tom, and he would have done 
him some evil thereafter but for his superstitious fear 
of that strange man, and even after Tom’s disappear- 
ance he had the terrible fear that Tom haunted the 
house and protected the boy. And he believed that 
Tom had haunted his own house, coming and going to 
the sound of music which he thought was his attend- 
ing spirit. And then as to Bousset’s plot, it always 
miscarried — the sudden appearance of M. de Rouville 
now thwarted him — then the disappearance of Tom — 
then the trifling spirit of Granville— his concealed and 
hopeless love which embittered and confused his pur- 
poses — ” 

I fell to thinking intently of Roger Schanck, and of 
that long, mysterious journey upon which he must so 
soon enter. To my deep pondering, the vast distances, 
the melancholy wastes, the dim valleys, and the stupend- 
ous mountain passes, the solemn shapes moving in the 


SOMNAMBULISM. 


389 


glooming airs, and all the weird and awful region 
through which the disembodied soul must go, rose 
terribly before me. I saw him hastening, a melancholy 
shadow, through freezing night and silence, pursued by 
the remorseful ghost of his father, and a feeling of in- 
finite pain and longing possessed me. All his past 
kindnesses came back to me, and I condoned his 
ambitions and his failures, as being but the' exaggera- 
tion of the ills from which all humanity suffers ; the 
wrongs he had done me in fact or by implication, 
seemed small, waiting by the margin of that deep pit 
into which he was vanishing, and I longed to tell him so, 
and to forgive him before he departed, or even to hold 
him back if that were possible. 

But then, to approach him face to face, who enter- 
tained this hopeless passion and lived so long upon it ! 
I could not do it. In a dreary maze of thought, I 
wondered if I could not bring him to me, as I had 
brought the miser and David Ruland, when a lad I 
lay alone in my chamber and saw and overheard them 
at their ? coil. Their was a fascination about it. 

I leaned back in the old leathern chair, and the conver- 
sation of the two old men took on a drowsy tone and 
died away. A gentle sound was all about me, like 
night winds fanning their great wings far off, or the 
sea breating low down in caverns, or this human blood 
flowing fast by the inner auricles, and it pleased me to 
fancy one might indeed steal out of himself, and meet 
other spiritual essences face to face. I opened my 
eyes, if indeed they had closed, and somehow the 
dying man’s room floated into my own, as different 
colored rays can fill the same space. Granville, or 
Roger, was lying propped upon his couch, his great 
eyes unclosed but restless, while his breast did not 
seem to heave, or any other member of his body to 


390 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


show a wonted function. But there was a visible 
change in his features, a certain purification had 
been going on, like liquor rarifying through age and 
stillness in its vault. Weary he was, and his proud 
spirit was half consenting to his mortal overthrow, but 
something despairing and lingering, like a heart- 
broken woman embracing and restraining her lover 
while the clarion calls, was holding him back. Con- 
ceive human eyes in a waxen image ! — so strange and 
piteous had he become. 

I rose slowly, griped horribly at my heart to see him 
at this pass, and with a gesture of commiseration I laid 
my hand on his shoulder. His eyes never ceased to 
regard me though they winced faintly at my forgive- 
ness, and then looked into and beyond me. I heard a 
stealthy and elastic step approaching us from a long 
way off — it was coming under trees in the garden, and 
now upon the pavement under the elms, now a door 
was opening swiftly and SQftly,— surely it was Made- 
line returning from her orchard rendezvous, and she 
had a message for her proteg6. Roger came back from 
the far away, entered his eyes, and wished me gone. 
But so swiftly came the woman I could not undo the 
spell, and leave him, so he remained in his room in my 
room— but I withdrew from his into mine ! 

Positively handsome looked this rude woman as she 
stood before him palpitating with haste, and perilously 
gained information. 

“I have seen him again, my little one,” she cried 
softly, “ he escaped from his captors. He has been at 
the big mansion. The hound was there at nine o’clock ! 
The crazy cripples have illumined the house. They 
entertain the hound as if he were a courier. You’ll 
see her again ! ” 

W as it a groan I heard, or was it the wind, or was it 


SOMNAMBULISM. 


391 


the far off talking of the old men ? Madeline has 
heard it too. She comes undulating swiftly, and with 
a smothered cry throws her head gently upon his breast 
listening at his heart. Her face is white with fear. 

“ My God ! You are scarcely living ! Drink this ! ” 
And she seizes a thin, long beaker, and feeds him 
slowly with wine., “Live but a day longer!” she 
whispers thrillingly, “and that fair lady will save you 
from darkness and death ! ” 

Something murmured at his lips, moved at his fingers, 
or clouded in his eyes, and she divined it. She threw 
herself on her knees, and chafed his long, trans- 
parent hands — listened again at his heart, and bending 
over him strained herself into his eyes, and turning 
with wild, inarticulate moanings, with tigerish move- 
ments of despair, she seized half unconscious^ her 
mandolin, and struck weird notes like sparks from it. 

Do you remember the black hut — the shaking 
winds — the growling, incessant seas — the little kinsmen 
that I thrust aside for you ! Do 3^011 remember how I 
slaved for you — taught you the little that I knew — 
bought you books with my blood— sent you over the 
seas with my earnings, and the gold the surf threw up — 
lost you with anguish, and found you with intolerable 
woe ! Ah, thou wast ever cold to me for all I did ? 
Will you leave me now, when I have kept you so long, 
when I have guessed your secret and sacrificed myself 
again, to save you? Ah, that is too horrible a crime ! 

“ Live, little one ! The world is seething, stir thou 
the cauldron ! Thou, wicked God ! ” she cried, with 
a fiery look into the heavens, lifting both her clenched 
hands, “ he is dying ! ” At the same moment a low 
peal of thunder jarred into the room. She dropped her 
eyes slowly, her hands following, as she muttered, 
“ And there is one could save him — but not Thou ! ” 


392 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


She drew her fists tight against her breast, looking 
with a terrible face upon the ground. “ I will do a 
dreadful thing but she shall meet him this night ! My 
husband waits in hiding— shall I begone?” 

She turned toward Roger, whose eyes were leaping 
upon her like flames, inciting her to desperate resolve. 
She made strides like a man across the room and 
vanished through the door., I heard her bounding 
from stair to stair, and felt her live skeleton pushing 
through her flesh as it hastened to some fiendish deed. 
I threw my arms about me in a wild endeavor to thrust 
this wizzard and his room away, while I tried to inter- 
cept the woman. I felt mj'Self hampered and delayed, 
and suddenly I was aware that Dr. Murray, Judge 
Brief, and Mr. Creep, were about me, restraining me on 
the stairs that led from the third story down into the 
garden. 

How came I there? I heard Dr. Murray explaining 
to the others that, I had been in a somnambulistic 
state, and that he had followed me to prevent me from 
any bodily injury. I broke away from them, horrified 
at any condition, and understanding now all the pre- 
vious mysteries in which I had been personally en- 
gaged. Surely I had been in Roger Schanek’s room, 
and had seen and overheard, without being observed 
by Madeline, probably hidden in one of the deep win- 
dows. Without being able to analyze the feeling, I 
detested myself, and desired to be alone. Dr. Murray 
followed me to my room, and throwing his arms about 
me, he tenderly embraced me like a father. 

“Do not be humiliated, my son,” he said, “the long 
tension is nearly ended, and this will never occur 
again. Get you to bed; be not disquieted by any- 
thing you have dreamed ; sleep soundly ; to-morrow is 
set like a stage for the players, and when the curtain is 


THE APPARITION. 


393 


rolled away — !” He gave me a significant look, very 
high and suggestive, and folded me once more in his 
embrace ere he softly went away. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

THE APPARITION. 

An unaccountable fear came over me. I sat down 
upon my bed all cold and trembling. The sounds 
died out in the house, and a great stillness descended, 
and still I sat there unmoving Flaws of thought came 
to me and died away. A procession of pictures en- 
tered my mind — Tom was leading me by the hand into 
the rainbow region. — Tom was holding me in his arms 
as he wound about the streets of Rondaine — Tom was 
walking with me in the spring woodlands, and by the 
broad flowing river: was lying with me in the sunny 
glade — he was weeping over me in Queen’s Cove cem- 
etery — he was wandering with me perplexed, in the 
dim-lighted halls of M. de Rouville’s mansion — the 
sweet young girl was stirring in her slumbers and gaz- 
ing wide-eyed upon us — he was bearing me awa} T , dis- 
consolate and muttering — he was embracing me wildly 
in his last farewell — he was slipping ghostly about the 
house long after, a presence not to be observed. 

I remembered how strongly the conviction sometimes 
seized me when a boy that he was coming again, and 
how I would put the candle in its old accustomed place, 
nightly expecting to awake and find the wanderer hold- 
ing it lighted above me. And now that he was coming 
at last — for what else could Dr. Murray mean ! — I rose 
up softly and stole into his room, to see if candle, flint 


894 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


and steel, and tinder, were in the old place, and then 
sat down in the window a long time. 

The night was dreary, and I thought the sound of 
the sea was never so weird and monotonous before. 
And yet it drew me with a powerful charm — I arose 
and went softly down-stairs and out into the night. I 
paced slowly down the lawn and going into the street 
I continued toward the beach, not meeting a soul 
abroad. When I had wandered some distance from 
the town I sat down on a little dune covered with 
coarse grass, and heard in the darkness, with melan- 
choly pleasure, the gradual roar of advancing waves 
which so suddenly culminates, and then dies away in 
softest murmurs, to begin again, and again, forever. 

Far out I saw a light, probably in some fisherman’s 
skiff, moving deviously about. Occasional flaws of 
wind whispered hurriedly through the grass, and sang 
aloud in melancholy strains through the rigging of 
some small vessels lying no great way off, while the 
darkness increased, and I noticed faint glimmers of 
lightning, and remarking to myself that a storm was 
brewing, I arose to return home. 

When I had with some trouble come in sight of home 
again, I was startled to see a candle in my chamber 
window, and in pure dread and expectation, I found 
myself unable to stir. After a few minutes the light 
was extinguished, and in morbid terror, I felt more in- 
clined to fly into the hollow vaults of the tempest than 
to trust myself in the dark to meet the fate that I felt 
was awaiting me within. 

But by sheer force of will I dragged my panting 
body toward the house, my heart shaking within me. 
As loud as the increasing storm had now become, I did 
not hear its sound ; the elements to me were dumb, and 
something supernatural was giving character to the 


THE APPAPITIOH. 


395 


hour. I heard the great hall door grind slowly and 
the gravel crunched under a heavy, hesitating step. 
Lighter than the hare moves, I slunk across the lawn 
and stood behind some shrubbery. The man paused 
right opposite to me. If only my heart would keep 
silent he might not find me ! I ground my teeth de- 
spairingly, for he was so close I heard him moan and 
murmur inarticulately, while my heart beat up into my 
throat with an awful sound. But, after an eternity, he 
turned away, and I heard him moving down the lawn. 
At the same instant I recognized that a long peal of 
thunder was dying in the welkin over my head, and 
that the. wind was mixed with sea-sounds and roaring 
in the elms so loud that no human ear could have de- 
tected my presence, nor any eye, because of the sable 
vapors moving between us, have caught even a surmise 
of my presence, and so it must have been pure accident 
that delayed that fearful man. 

Gradually, as such storms sometimes do along the 
coast, the thunder receded, and the wind fell without 
rain, but an hour of mirk and intense stillness suc- 
ceeded. I found my way to the porch and sat down in 
a chair, still feeling the throes of the crisis, and know- 
ing in my soul that, if I entered the house, sometime 
during the night Tom would inevitably return. 

I told over without emotion, the many rare and tender 
offices of love that he had performed for me, trying to 
revive a longing for him, but somehow warmth and 
color was lacking in them all ; and flesh and spirit 
tacitty agreeing, I arose and groped my way back to 
the shore, meaning to pass the night there, and force 
our meeting off until the morrow. 

I found the light still beaming faintly in the fisher^ 
man’s lantern, and I kept further down the beach to- 
ward it, with a half desire to be near something alive 


396 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


and human, however humble. The waves, like the 
winds, had fallen, and only kept up a low weltering 
sound, far out, as though the tide had receded a great 
way. Not fancying the oozy walk to the water’s edge, 
and thinking from the manner in which the lantern was 
swaying that the lonely fisherman was picking up the 
spoil of his nets, I concluded to await his coming, on 
dry land. How dim and improbable seemed all life but 
his and mine, in this world hid under the universal 
pall ! 

I threw myself at full length on the sand, with my 
chin propped on my hands, watching the vagaries of 
the light when, I became aware of the sound of horse’s 
feet coming slowly toward me. I sat up, wondering, 
and noticed that the night was not nearly so black as it 
had recently been, but enough of the larger stars had 
pierced the canopy, to give a character to near objects, 
when, in the moment, a gigantic horse and rider drew 
near. The horse was treading wearily, and before it 
quite reached me it stopped, its head gradually sinking 
downward to the sand, and so, standing, it slept, and 
the rider sitting upright, his arms folded, his head sunk 
forward, was also profoundly slumbering. 

I arose, with some feeling of awe, for my mind had 
been busied with uncanny thoughts, and approaching 
cautiously I had nearly cried aloud, — the man so much 
resembling, as well as I could make out, my eyes be- 
ing sharpened to the quest, like a night-bird’s — so much 
resembling Tom, that at first I thought it him. But 
while I remained standing, in the greatest perplexity, a 
multitude of short thoughts fleeting through my mind, 
as that I had never seen Tom except on foot, that his 
sleep was always broken by sighs, and that his body 
not remaining steeped in slumber would frequently 
start, and turn uneasily, and that, when I came 


THE APPAEITION. 


897 


near him he would always show by some sound or 
action that he recognized my presence — the moon rose 
out of the bank of clouds, and threw an almost hori- 
zontal beam that thrust shadow of man and horse to a 
prodigious length. 

As they faced the rising luminary I saw by her witch - 
glances, thin, yellow, and doubtful as they were, that 
the man was he I had seen among the tombs that dole- 
ful night so long ago, and my flesh crept. I noted the 
color of the horse, its trappings, the dress of the rider, 
the look of care that made a deeper shadow beneath his 
visor, even to the minutiae of his gloves, his spurs, the 
cut of his garments, the little brackish pools about our 
feet — for my eyes were sharp and steadfast and made 
amends for the incertitude nf moon. 

But the moon went up the sky full fast, our shadows 
crept back to us, and the darkness paled, scantily, 
more and more. I felt a feverish desire to steal away, 
being possessed with the fear that the eyes of the sleep- 
ing man would suddenly be wide and discover me. 
And as I was stealing past, so close that I might have 
touched him, the great horse awoke and gave a snort 
of terror, rearing, and about to plunge, but the rider, 
true to good horsemanship, even in the confusion of 
waking, checked and calmed the beast. Our eyes met, 
and a look of unutterable dread and longing swept over 
his face. “Again!” he groaned. The horse quivered 
and whinnied, the rider’s hand relaxed, and with a 
plunge they were gone. 

In the great pit of the night I stood alone, the moon 
hanging over the rim, a ghostly genius, far up, that even 
now was quivering, and gyrating, and flying away. 


398 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

THE SUICIDE. 

I must have swooned, for a darkness gathered 
upon me, and when I remembered again, the moon 
was higher up, and I was lying upon a billow of sand. 
Far out, I saw the fisherman’s lantern, and yield- 
ing to the impression that Tom could not be far away, 
since M. de Rouville had been so near, I arose and hur- 
ried out across the slippery beach. 

As I drew nearer, 1 saw the fisher engaged in the 
strangest occupation civilized man has been known to 
follow. Instead of searching among shells and slimy 
debris for spoil, or breaking open sea-mouldered casks 
and chests which lay half buried between the huge ribs 
of some wrecked ship, whose chains and anchors hung 
barnacled above the salt wash, he was tossing back into 
the deep, treasures long gathered, while his ghastly feat- 
ures work convulsively, and the lantern swayed in his 
palsied hand. All about his feet the reptile waves were 
crawling, hissing, and lapping the gold with their thin 
lips, and rearing dimly aloft for more. 

In my amazement I came quite near him, seeing the 
actual gold he clutched from a black leather bag 
strapped at his side, and I recognized whom I had al- 
ready suspected — Jesse Schanck. His wits were quite 
gone. He mumbled incessant!}' rolling his fierce eyes, 
and making a tardy restitution to the elements but not 
to those whom he had bereft so long. 

When he had hurled the last coins from him, he held 
the lantern straight out before him, looking into the 


THE SUICIDE. 


399 


moonlit niglit, and called in a heart-shaking voice, 
“ Roger ! Roger ! Roger ! ” 

At the same moment I discovered that, I was not the 
only witness of the proceeding. A dark, stout figure 
glided from behind a portion of the wreck, and stood 
beside the speaker, peering into his face. My heart 
beat loudly, — it was Tom. Jesse Schanck swung round 
upon him with a piercing cry of alarm. 

“Infernal fiend! ” he gasped, “what witch has raised 
you up in the small hours of the night ! Or, are we 
all dead together ! Begone ! You’ve had your day ! ” 

But Tom did not move. His eyes were set hard, 
staring into vacanc}^, while his face was white and ter- 
rible to behold, as if something stirred deep in him, and 
bottomless abysses opened before him. As if out of 
them, a voice from the judgment, he began to speak. 
A superstitious dread came over me and I turned 
swiftly away, but not before I had noticed how visibly 
Jesse Schanck trembled, his wits crowding back in 
panic, and yet firmly resisting ; every wrinkle in his 
face becoming deeper, his round, savage eyes staring 
out with a tigerish glare ! 

My brain was in such turmoil, and such dread and 
sickness was at my heart, that, I scarcely noticed an 
excited group of horsemen about a coach, which was 
at a standstill on the obscure road, nor did I heed their 
calling : they seemed to me more like spectral shadows 
confused and drifting about the shut gates of dawn, 
and their voices were winds’ voices. 

I found myself far on the sea road to the de Rouville 
mansion, when I was attracted by the sight of flames 
suddenly bursting aloft, and shining through the trees 
with ominous glare. I stopped short, trying to recollect 
where I was, and trying to fix in my mind the place of 
this calamity when, my dream, or whatever it was in 


400 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


the early part of the night, — mayhap, my second-sight, 
or somnambulistic state, occurred to me, and Made- 
line’s saying, “ The hound has been observed — they are 
not far off! ” reacted upon me as a marvelous spur, and 
I gathered my powers and set off through the little 
wood at a great rate. 

When I came out upon the garden, the big house was 
like a jewel which rancorous gknii were tugging from 
the earth, fanning their terrible red wings, and roaring 
to the hollow gilded dome of night. Flying across the 
grounds, a guilty wretch, with a brand yet glowing in 
his hand, which he was unable to drop in his frenzy, 
came the fisher, and following fast upon his heels was 
Marlowe, a burly vengeance, and both sped, unmindful, 
before my very face, and disappeared in the darkness 
right over the rocks, under which the sea was tumbling 
and calling. 

I found old Jean leaning over his palsied wife, under 
one of the trees, gripping her hands hard, and poring 
in stupor on this costly pyre. 

“Where is Marie?” I shouted, shaking him sternly, 
in my excitement. He did not look up but answered 
mechanically, “ In Lorraine.” 

“Was she not here to-night ? Answer, upon your 
life.” 

“ No. But tire master will grieve to-morrow— the old 
times are burned away. There’s nothing left me now, 
but to die.” 

By dint of persuasion I gained that, M. de Rouville 
was expected on the morrow, but the ladies of his fam- 
ily would not be with him, so far as Jean knew. He 
had sent me this information at night-fall by one whom 
he had supposed to be servant. 

1 left them, promising speedy succor, and no long 
way off I met old Julius hurrying to the rescue, 


THE SUICIDE. 


401 


with half a hundred men, and to him I consigned my 
charge. 

I mounted the horse he resigned to me, and started 
once more upon a devious path. The interminable 
night was drawing to a close. A great star, here and 
there, was blazing alone, and the moon on the back of 
a cloud, like a shield thrown over the shoulder of some 
vast flying genius, was reflecting the yellow lustre of 
approaching day. Dulled to any new experience, I 
rode along in a mental stupor, without aim, and was 
neither surprised nor annoyed to find that instinct had 
led me back to the shore, and to the spot where I had 
beheld the confusion of the little knot of travelers. 
But they were already some distance on their way into 
the city, and evidently under guidance, as they were 
moving with a purpose. 

A longing seized me to go view the windows of the 
fatal brown house on Bayard street, and I turned my 
horse thitherward, urging him, at length, with voice 
and spur till, he sprang at a great pace through the 
sleeping town, and came tumultuously into the narrow 
street, where I checked his progress to a walk. The 
black, forbidding pile of buildings that so long had 
housed the evil miser, overshadowed me, but in the 
upper windows of the brown house, the feeble light of 
a candle flickered dismally, and I gazed upward, fancy- 
ing I should see that dreadful man in his awful panto- 
mime of remorse, as the fisher had seen him. Lured 
by the memory of that story, I threw myself silently 
from the saddle and leaving my docile beast at the 
gate, I climbed into the sycamore, and not three feet 
from the open window, I raised my eyes and gazed into 
the room. A cry of horror broke from me, and I fell 
as the sailor had done, to the ground. In that moment 
I had seen, as though I had been blasted by it for an 
26 


402 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


hour, Jesse Schanck hanging dead from a crooked 
branch of the tree which had grown into and out of a 
corner of the room, through an aperture in the broken 
wall, with the candle yet burning in his hand, and his 
wide open eyes fixed awfully upon that spot where he 
had stabbed his son. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

STRANGE LIQUORS WHICH OPEN UP ENCHANTMENTS. 

A reaction came over me, and I staggered under 
a sense of returning reason and judgment, as I arose 
and took my seat in the saddle again. The evil genii 
were departing from my horizon. Jesse Schanck had 
made a certain kind of expiation and I willingly dis- 
missed him from ray mind. In his place that good 
companion of my childhood had returned, that parent 
who once filled all my sense of yearning, and though 
he came to me shattered in mind, like one fearfully 
maimed in battle, I would cherish him at my heart, 
and be all to him, hoping in some happier sphere to 
find us newly related, with all the obscuring clouds 
dissipated from between soul and soul. I warmed 
gently to these ministering thoughts like a vestal 
chanting in her cold sanctuary, and all in the rosy flush 
of dawn I drew near my home. 

As I cast my eyes aloft, I perceived, dimly outlined, 
the form of Roger Schanck propped upon a heap of 
pillows near the window, the lamps yet burning in his 
room, and I commiserated the unhappy man. There 
was a silence all about the house, but for the stir of a 
domestic in the kitchen, and the yawning note of a dog 
rousing in his kennel. I threw myself from my horse, 


STRAKGE LIQUORS. 40S 

and let him wander at will, as I entered the unbolted 
door and passed into the hall. 

Some one was wearily walking therein. A grave 
old man, with a certain majesty of feature, whose 
eyes were full of pathos. His arms were clasped, 
his head was bent low, and he murmured softly as 
he approached me. The tears sprang hot into my eyes. 
I threw out my arms beseechingly, and called to him, 
“Father!” in a broken voice. He regarded me with- 
out lustre, and standing irresolute for a moment, he 
turned away. 

I came between him and the stair. “ My God I ” I 
cried, under breath, “ do you not know me ? Can it be 
that time can dull the memory of old love ! Look 
deeply into me ! I am that child whom you bestowed 
yourself upon like manna, when he starved. I am that 
little Jude, whose good genius you were, ages and ages 
ago!” 

Tears came into the eyes of the lonely one, but no 
light of recognition. He took my hand and seemed to 
feel into it for subtile reasonings unknown to the minds 
of men. 

“I pity you/’ he said, at length, “for you have 
known misery, and stood at locks as I have, and have 
heard voices passing in the air, and could not comprehend, 
and have wandered far but could never come upon the 
fugitive you have followed. Time hath worn it into 
me that, for all our yearning the fairest we shall not 
possess — that we have all drunken strange liquors 
which open up enchantments to our eyes, while we eat 
the husks of disappointment, and lie on pallets of 
straw. For my part, I think 1 am treading eternal 
rounds, and may have lived in a thousand shapes, there 
is such a confusion of old ideas, and tangled warps of 
memories in my mind. I may have seen you before — 


404 


phantom bays. 


a great-eyed, sorrowful face has often gone aching 
through my heart, but I have known delusions, and am 
grown wary of all forms.” 

A sudden thought possessed me, and I led this noble, 
pathetic figure, down the hall, and hiding myself be- 
hind a long cloak hanging from a rack, I made as 
though the dead miser was grasping my other hand, 
and looked out from my disguise into his face. A 
troubled look came over it, but with a gentle dignity 
he dispossessed himself of my grasp, slowly shaking 
his head and whispering me, “Let there be no mummer- 
ies ! ” We went up the wide staircase together, and on 
the landing he paused and said, “ You and I are walk- 
ing in a dream ! ” 

The salt breeze was stirring the hangings of the 
open window, and as I gazed out of it, I caught a 
glimpse of a carriage coming up the avenue, and Made- 
line hanging about it, with something wild and dis- 
tracted in her voluble welcome. But so absorbed was 
I that I gave it no thought further than that ghost of 
an one that the hospitality of my house was large 
enough to comprehend the inmates of the equipage and 
the outriders surrounding it. I continued to ascend 
the stairs with my companion, though I saw that a feeling 
of haste was possessing him and that he would gladly 
be politely rid of me. As it was, I held his arm and 
conveyed him into the library and in front of the por- 
trait of Adelia Beaumont. And while he gazed upon 
it with longing and despair, a sob burst from him, very 
grievous to hear, but I felt I was still excluded and 
might come no more into his world. 

At the other end of the room Judge Brief and Dr. 
Murray were seated, silent, but observant, though to 
my eyes they seemed but statues of men. Evidently 
they had risen some time before, or had not been in 


STRANGE LIQtTORS. 


405 


bed all night, so carefully were they dressed, and 
though I had known of their presence when I came into 
the library, I had not exactly recognized it, and would 
not now but for the incongruity of statues flashing in- 
telligence into each other’s eyes, as the stricken man 
turned toward me and said : 

u Let us not pain each other longer. There are some 
things I cannot comprehend — I only know I bleed in- 
wardly whenever I see this fair painting, and some 
strains of music search into me and bear me away 
weeping, and it is your infirmity and not any grace in 
me that attaches you to me. I am a sort of gin at 
present, slave to a gracious master, and am come at his 
bidding to search this house. Do not detain me, I am 
harmless, and I shall never come again.” 

“ Can either of you gentlemen,” he continued, after 
a pause, taking in the two old men in his glance, “ Can 
either of you tell me what has become of the youth who 
once lived here? Warn him against his tutor ! And 
now, farewell ! ” 

I did not follow him but Judge Brief did, while I re- 
mained with Dr. Murray, soothed into quiet by his 
councils, and gently led from my distraction. 

One thing he said that greatly puzzled me ; “ I am 
convinced that he will change his character presently, 
for intelligence is at work behind the vapors of his 
mind, and almost bursting through with its illumina- 
tions, and if the awakening occurs in this house he will 
never dream distraught again, and you will indeed be- 
come united as living consanguinity should be.” 


406 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


CHAPTER XLV. 

THE REVELATION. 

Below stairs there was an increasing sound of 
voices and motion, with hurrying of servants, and 
neighing of horses, and doors closing and unclosing, 
and all the stir of a number of guests arriving and dis- 
posing themselves about the house. I arose with hos- 
pitable intent, but the good doctor intercepted me, 
saying, “ No, no, Jude ; leave that to me — they are 
travelers claiming entertainment for an hour and then 
gone, while you may be needed here at any moment.” 
And he hastily departed. 

Who was it coming so softly and lightly up the stairs, 
accompanied by the vigorous, firm footsteps of Made- 
line, and followed by others? A thick vapor of fear, 
and perilous, sweet surmise, stifled my^ heart. But the 
full voice of Madeline, like an actress’ dissipated all 
that. “Yes, my lady,” she was saying, “it is an ample 
house and noted for its hospitality. When the master 
found you were belated travelers he would have me go 
seek you, and bring you here, as I have told you — .” 
And they passed further away, and entered one of the 
rooms, the door closing them in. Evidently the tired 
guests were seeking some needed repose. 

An unwonted excitement was evinced in the servant 
who brought, and took away my barely tasted break- 
fast, and scarcely was he gone when Dr. Murray, ac- 
companied by Dr. Damour, whom he introduced, came 
into the library. That grave gentleman stopped short 
in his salutation, and regarded me with undisguised 


THE REVELATION. 


407 


wonder and pleasure. To my amazement he went fur- 
ther, clasping me in his arms In a genuine embrace, and 
crying in suppressed excitement, “ Surely this is he, 
and all will end well ! ” 

I disengaged myself gently, and looked to both for 
an explanation. “ It is a great pleasure to have you in 
my house,” I said, “ but tell me how it has occurred ? 
We thought you in France — have you but just re- 
turned ? or, have you been in America all this while ? 
And where is M. de Rouville ? And — and — ” I sud- 
denly faltered and said no more. 

“We returned on the ‘Algiers’ two days ago, and 
started at once for Worcester, arriving here after mid- 
night. 

“ The intense darkness separated our party, and we 
lost M. de Rouville, and while engaged in searching for 
him, we were alarmed at perceiving a great fire burst 
out in the direction of Ills mansion. Leaving our heav- 
ily loaded carriage under escort, some of us rode hastily 
forward, but we were obliged to return with the tidings 
of disaster — the noble building with all its contents, 
being speedily consumed. As we were returning back 
to the city, a woman came hastily imploring us to ac- 
cept of her master’s hospitality, saying she had been 
sent to beseech us thither, and we have thus been 
thrown upon your kindness, which we accept right 
heartily.” 

“ And M. de Rouville ? Did you find him again ? ” 

But before he could reply, there came a sound of 
heavy tramping from the upper story, and down the 
long hall, and right up to the library door. 

“Be careful, idiots ! ” Madeline was coarsely, com- 
manding, “ You carry a burden more precious than men 
have borne before. Move softer than gulls fly. Here, 
right in at this door ! Beware of the lintels ! Set him 


408 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


down slowly ! Throw up all the windows ! Bring me 
the wine ! Where is my music? Now, go, every one 
of you ! ” And she comprehended all the company in 
her glance, as her eyes raged round like those of a 
pythoness. 

Roger Schanck lay motionless on his couch ; through 
the thin alabaster of his cheeks, his dying life was shin- 
ing, and his eyes, great and expectant, lay on his flesh 
like fascinating gems. Astounded at the unwelcome 
liberties of the woman, and his own cold acquiescence, 
hot anger rankled in my bosom like a sword. 

“ To what are we indebted for this insolence ? ” I ex- 
claimed, stepping forward. 

“ Hush -I ” she hissed, “ Would you blow out his life 
like a candle ? If the spell work aright, you will not 
be troubled by a sick man any longer. He does not 
hear now, all his soul is in his eyes. It will fly out like 
a bird, or it will come back in its cage, at the voice of 
the charmer. Come, little dove, is the blood moving?” 

And she began to ply him with wine, and some drops 
of amber color. He turned his eyes down on her with 
an expression of fierce reproach, which stung her to 
her feet. 

“ I go ! I go ! ” she cried. “ Bring in my music ! ” and 
she hurried from the room. A servant, unknowing 
which she meant, came in with an armful of musical 
instruments from the room above, and she snatched 
her mandolin, as she passed him at the door. 

• We all stood in a passion of wonder as to the sequel 
of this, when I turned aside to Dr. Dam our, and whis- 
pered, “ Is — is your daughter of your party ? ” 

“ Yes,” he returned, “ and ” 

But I lost his reply in the hysterical burst of Made- 
line’s voice, quite near us, accompanied by some 
strange thrumming of her mandolin. 


THE REVELATION. 


409 


u Yes, our young master is very ill — he is wounded 
— he is waiting to see you 

A painful cry escaped from some one, and a rich 
voice that I knew so well, was urging, “ Oh, take me 
to him at once ! ” 

At the moment my glance had been on Roger 
Schanck’s face and I noticed a delirious joy burn up into 
his eyes, but in the instant I had sprung past him, and 
at the door I thrust Madeline aside, and stood face to 
face with my long parted love. 

We glowed in upon each other with a resistless, holy 
passion that excluded the world, and our hearts Avere 
strained upon each in a fervent, fond embrace. Thrice 
she reared her dazzling face, and thrice it sank upon 
my breast ere we had strength to part or speak — the 
knowledge of all those eyes upon us thrusting itself 
importunately between. 

As I drew her away, my glance shot between them 
all, at Roger Schanck. His wonderful eyes had grown 
small and dull, and a shadow like dusk, was on his face. 
His regards seemed upon nothing in this world, but 
upon something far off and full of terror. A shudder- 
ing crept over him, and if ever the d3dng can see be- 
yond mortal ken and hold converse with disembodied 
souls, losing the boundaries of time and place, and 
yet held by a single thread to the living, and would 
make restitution for evil days, guided by some simple 
but relenting spirit which yet hovers near its new made 
grave, then did he meet in the woeful air the ghost of 
his father, and shrunk dismayed, but understood, and 
became the medium of his atonement too. Moment- 
arily he came glowing faintly into life, but he was no"’ 
longer the man we had known. Like the sun shining 
out at its setting, from clouds which all day had hid 


410 


PHANTOM DAYS. 


its sovereignty, so something heroic shone through him 
and dwarfed his old self. 

Madeline seemed first to notice it. She stepped 
back like one dismayed to find the hidden meaning in 
a familiar face. He looked at her from out his high rev- 
erie, as if she, too, were a revelation, and held out his 
hand to her as if he had met her after long travail, in the 
morning of a* new world. She crept to him in a pas- 
sionate awe, and her thought broke through her 
audibly, “he recognizes my devotion — he is dying ! ” 

He whispered her something, and she turned, and 
gave him his violin. The bow wavered in his thin 
hand like Pan’s reed in the stream. A delicate note 
came tingling faintly on the silence, for we all looked 
upon him in indefinable expectation and scarcely 
breathed. As if assured of his power, he gathered 
subtile strength, and invaded the domain of ravishing 
sound. So thin, so sweet, the crowding notes came 
artfully from the magician’s hand that, the room was 
filled, and softly they ventured abroad, like live things, 
chiming and searching to the remotest corner of the 
sombre mansion. A noise was heard far off, and the 
music crept back upon us, making the blood shiver in 
the veins, and all compelling it drew one with it as 
with strong cords. Not one of us but heard reluctant 
foot-steps, doors opening slowlj r , and a live sound along 
the halls, and at last a breathing of one in strong ex- 
citement, near at hand. A triumphant burst as if the 
last enchantment had returned into the master’s power, 
and Tom was in our midst. 

In his hands he held a wealth of gems, chains, 
brooches, and a bundle of ancient parchments. He 
stood close by Roger Schanck, a broken majesty, and 
the pathos which comes from wrong endured softened 
his face, and shone mournfully in his eyes. Still hold- 


THE REVELATION. 


411 


ing Marie’s clinging hand, I went up to him and threw 
an arm about him. I thought he would have wept, 
for he sighed so heavily, regarding me with a glimmer 
of consciousness, and a pain of doubt that smote me to 
the heart. 

The dying man, now breathing heavily, raised his 
hands and made strange passes in the air, and with bis 
last energy he played that subtile, sweet, and thrilling 
air, with which my mother was wont to charm her 
sorrow, and at which, Tom, to the amazement of us all, 
with a motion as if he shook off his old identity, and 
stepped out of a disguise, dropped every lineament of 
the past, and stood before us, unmistakeably as M. de 
Rouville. 

“ He is your father ! ” came a voice from the air, or 
from the dead, for Granville was no more. 


THE END. 


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E inbroidery 15 

Black Art Exposed (The) 15 

Blunders of a Bashful Man (The) 25 

Breadwinners Abroad, by Hon. Robt. P. Porter 25 75 

Boilermaker’s Assistant (The), by Samuel Nicholls... . 2 50 

Basket of Fun (A) 25 

Carpenters’ and Builders’ Complete Companion 1 00 2 00 

Captive Bride (The), by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 25 

Cloverdale Skeleton (A), by Jennie S. Holmes 25 

Casanova the Courier, by David Skaats Foster. 25 

Cy Ros. by Mellen Cole 25 

Chained Lightning, by Ike Philkins 25 

Case’s (Dr.) New Recipe Book, by Prof. A. L. Case. . . 25 1 00 

Complete Fortune Teller and Dream Book 15 

Concert Exercises of Sunday-Schools, 5c. each; 30c. per doz. 

Courtship and Marriage 15 

Down in the World, by Florence Warden 25 

Dixon on Ingersoll, Ten Sermons, by Rev. Thos. 

Dixon, Jr 25 

Double Duel (The), by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 25 

Dancer’s Guide and Ball-Room Companion 15 

Don't Marry, by Hildreth 25 

Diary of a Minister’s Wife, by Almedia M. Brown, 

One vol , cloth, $1.50; 2 vols., each 25 

Diary of a Village Gossip, by Almedia M. Brown 25 1 00 

Defending a Home, by E. A. Young 25 75 

Detective Johnson of New Orleans, by Harry I. 

Hancock 25 

Dark Plot (A), by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 25 75 

Double Life (A), by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 25 75 

Eureka Collection of 300 Songs. Words and Music. . 25 


2 ( 7 , & Ogilvie’s Publications. 


Paper. Cloth. 

Eureka Advanced Fourth Reader (The), by A. L. 

Whyte, . Boards 40 

Educating- the Horse 15 

Every Lady Her Own Dressmaker. 15 

Every-day Cook Book, by Miss E. Neil 25 $ 75 

Easy Road to Fortune (An) 15 

Fun for all by Nelly Greenway 15 

Fireside Songster (The) 15 

Friendship’s Test, by Amelia Burdette 25 75 

False Couple (A), by Mrs. Jennie S. Holmes 25 75 

From Ocean to Ocean, by Ballington Booth 25 1 00 

Four Hundred Recitations and Readings 35 

Favorite Cook Book (The) 50 1 00 

Fireside Dictionary (The) 25 1 00 

Funny Stories 25 75 

Funny World (The) 25 75 

Forced Marriage (A), by Frederick W. Pearson 25 75 

Fugitives of Pearl Hill (The), by E. A. Young 25 75 

Fun on Draught 10 

Funny-Fellow’s Grab-Bag 25 

Gaskell’s Hand-Book of Useful Information.. 25 

German Barber’s Humorous Sketches 10 

Gospel Awakening (The), by F. A. Blackmer, Boards. 35 

Grand Wonder Collection. ... 50 

Gaskell’s Compendium of Penmanship 1 00 

Gathered Gems, by Rev. T. De Witt Talmage 50 1 50 

Gaspar Desmond’s Passion, by Pauline Grayson 25 75 

How to Get Married Although a Woman ; or the Art 

of Pleasing Men, by “A Young Widow,” 25 

How to Manage a Husband, by 150 Woman 25 

His One Desire, by Milton Neila 25 

Handy Cook-Book (The) 10 

Happy Home Songster (The) 15 

Home Chemist and Perfumer (The) 15 

Home Amusements 15 

His Evil Eye, by Harrie I. Hancock 25 75 

Housewife’s Treasure (The) 25 

How to Talk and Debate 15 

How to Behave 15 

How to Entertain a Social Party 25 75 

How to Make One Hundred Puddings, by Mrs. Jennie 

Taylor 10 

How to Woo and How to Win 15 

Health Hints 25 

Her Mad Love, by Gerald Carlton 25 75 

Harry Blount, the Detective, by T. J. Flanagan 25 75 

Inspector Henderson, The Central Office Detective, 

by Harrie Irving Hancock 25 

Izma; or, Sunshine and Shadow, by M. Ozella Shields 25 75 

Josh Billings Spice-Box 25 

Kreutzer Sonata Bearing Fruit, by Pauline Grayson. 25 75 

Little Nonsense (A). 25 

Loveless Marriage (A), by Emma Howard Wight 25 

Laughing Gas; or, Mirth for the Million 25 

Life in the Backwoods. 15 


J~. $. Ogilvie*s Publications. 


3 


Love and Courtship Cards, per packet. . . . 

Leisure Hour Work for Ladies 

Lover s Guide (The) 

Looking Behind, by Frederick Alva Dean 

Love and Rebellion, by Miss M. C. Keller 

Life of Rev. T. DeWilt Talmage, D. D 

Man (The), by Aspasia Hobbs 

Magic Dial (The) 

Magic Trick Cards, per packet 

Model Letter-Writer (The) 

Miss Slimmens’ Boarding-House 

Miss Slimmens’ Window 

Moore’s Universal Assistant and Complete Mechanic, 

by R. Moore (Leather, $3.50) 

Mr. Clifton of Barrington, by Mrs. J. F. Reiclihard.. . 
Moral Inheritance (A), by Lydia Hoyt Farmer... . 

Master and Man, by O. O. B. Strayer 

Married for Money, by Mrs. May Agnes Fleming 

Napoleon’s Complete Book of Fate 

Nedia, by Nadage Doree 

New Era in Russia (The), by Col. De Arnaud 

Not Guilty, by author of “ The Original Mr. Jacobs ” 
Old Witch’s Dream Book and Fortune Teller (The). . . 

Old Dr. Brown’s Book of Secrets 

Odell’s System of Shorthand 

Ogilvie’s House Plans ; or, Row to Build a House. . . . 
Ogilvie’s Handy Monitor and Universal Assistant. . . . 
Ogilvie’s 110 New Recitations. 7 numbers ready. .. . 

Old Secrets and New Discoveries 

One Hundred Popular Songs 

Our Boys’ and Girls’ Favorite Speaker. . v 

One Hundred Poems, by Jane A. Van Allen, A. M. . . 

Out In the Streets, a Drama, by S. N. Gook 

Prince of Good Fellows (A) 

Palliser’s School Architecture 

Phantom Days, by Geo. T. Welch 

Private Detective No. 39. by John W. Postgate 

Popular Songs for all People 

Preserving and Manufacturing Secrets 

Patience Pettigrew’s Perplexities, by Clara Augusta. 

Peerless Gems of Melody 

Peerless Gems of Dance Music ... 

Peerless Gems of Song 

Pall'ser’s American Architecture, by Palliser, Pul- 

liser & Co 

Pretty Governess (A), by Mrs. May Agnes Fleming.. . 
Palliser’s Miscellaneous Architectural Designs and 

Details, by Palliser, Palliser & Co 

Rector's Secret (The), by J. A. Abarbanell 

Red Hot Trip in the Sunny South (A), by D. B. 

Shaw 

Scarlet Letter (The), by Nathaniel Hawthorne 

Sunnyside Collection of 300 Songs. Words and Music 
Scien ce of a New Life (The), by John Cowan, M. D. 
(Leather, $3.50; half morocco, $4.00) 


Paper. Cloth. 

30 


$0 15 


15 


25 

$ 75 

25 


25 


35 


15 


15 


15 


25 


25 . 

2 50 

25 

75 

25 

75 

25 

75 

25 

75 

15 


50 


25 


25 

75 

25 


50 


15 


25 


25 

50 

25 


25 


25 


15 


25 

75 

15 


25 


1 00 


25 


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10 


25 


25 

75 

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50 


1 00 

2 00 

25 

75 

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25 


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75 

25 


25 

3 00 


4 


*/. S. O'jitvi.'s Publications, 


Paper. Cloth 


Secrets for Farmers. . . . 25 

Some Funny Things said by Clever Children 10 

Secret Sorrow (The), by Mrs. May Agnes Fleming. . . 25 

Seven Days in a Pullman Car, by Ausburn Towner. . 25 

Seven Hundred Ways to Make Money 50 1 

Sidney's Stump Speaker 15 

Singing Made Easy 15 

Sunnyside Collection of Readings and Recitations.. 25 

Swimming and Skating 15 75 

Sunnyside Cook Book (The), by Mrs. Jennie Harlan. . 25 

Swindlers of America (The). 25 

Steel Square and Its Uses (The), by Fred T. Hodgson. 1 t 

Ton of Jokes (A) 25 

Ton of Fun (A) 10 

Temperance Gem (The) 10 

Three Thousand Things Worth Knowing, by R. 

Moore .... 50 75 

Twenty-Five Good Sermons by Twenty-Five 

Prominent Clergymen 25 75 

Thirty Days with President Harrison 25 1 00 

Twenty-Five Sermons on the Holy Land, by Rev. T. 

DeWitt Taimage (Half Russia $2.00) 25 1 50 

Twenty Good Stories, by Opie P. Read 25 75 

Victim of His Clothes (The), by Fielding and Burton. 25 75 

Widder Doodle’s Courtship (The), bv Josiah Allen’s 

Wife 25 

Wit and Wisdom 25 

Wilimoth the Wanderer, by C. C. Dail 25 

Woman in the Case (A) 25 

Warp and Woof, by Frances Hartson Wood and Eva 

Paine Kitchell 25 

Woman’s Revenge (A), by Mrs. J. F. Reichliard 25 

Wisest Men (The) 25 

Wedding Ring (The), by Rev. T. DeWitt Taimage... . 25 75 

Woman Her Power and Privileges, by Rev. T. 

DeWitt Taimage 25 75 

What to Eat and How to Cook It, by John Cowan. 25 50 

Why I Am What I Am, by Fourteen Clergyman 25 75 

Witty Sayings, selected from all sources 25 

Which Shall It Be? by Mrs. M. B. W. Parrish 25 75 

Young Folks’ Story of The Bible (The), (Gilt Edges, 

$2.50) 2 00 

Youman’s Dictionary of Every-day Wants, by A. E. 

Youman, M. D 1 00 4 00 


HOLIDAY BOOKS. 

The following books are bound in handsome colored covers, price 15 cents each. 
Bright Jewels, Sparkling Gems, Happy Hours, Golden Moments, 


Gathered Pearls, ltays of Sunshine, Bedtime Stories, Christmas Stories. 

Any of the above publi •a‘ iens can be ob ai a d from any bookseller, or they will be 
mailed to any address, postpaid, on receipt of price. Address 

J. S. OGiLViE, Publisher, 

P. o. Box 2767 . JS7 Rose Street, Siiew York. 



COLD MEDAL, PARIS, 1878. 


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WALTER BAKER & GO’S 

Breakfast Cocoa 

FEOM WHICH THE EXCESS OF OIL HAS BEEN REMOVED, 

Is Absolutely Pure and it is Soluble. 



No chemicals are used in its preparation. It has MORE THAN 
THREE TIMES THE STRENGTH of cocoa mixed with Starch, Arrow- 
root or Sugar, and is therefore far more economical, COSTING LESS 
THAN ONE CENT A CUP. It is delicious, nourishing, strengthening, 
EASILY DIGESTED, and admirably adapted for invalids as well as 
for persons in health. 

Ask Your Grocer for it. Allow no Substitution. 


WALTER BAKER & CO., DORCHESTER, MASS. 


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